954 

F989 
man 

1915 


IC-NRLF 


Hie  Man  on  the  Box 


RACE  LIVINGSTON  FURNISS 


AMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  St.,  New  York 


BILLETED. 

A  comedy  in  3  acts,  by  F.  Tennison  Jesse  and  H.  Harwood.  4  matf  j 
5  females.  One  easy  interior  scene.  A  charming  comedy,  construct* 
with  uncommon  skill,  and  abounds  with  clever  lines.  Margaret  Anglir 
big  success.  Amateurs  will  find  this  comedy  easy  to  produce  and  .popul; 
with  all  audiences.  Price,  60  Cent' 

NOTHING  BUT  THE  TRUTH. 

A  comedy  in  3  acts.  By  James  Montgomery.  5  males,  6  fema!es.  Co 
tumes,  modern.  Two  interior  scenes.  Plays  2^2  hours. 

Is  it  possible  to  tell  the  absolute  truth— even  for  twenty-four  hours?  It  is 
at  least  Bob  Bennett,  the  hero  of  "Nothing  But  the  Truth,"  accomplished  tl 
feat.  The  bet  he  made  with  his  business  partners,  and  the  trouble  he  got  into 
with  his  partners,  his  friends,  and  his  fiancee — this  is  the  subject  of  Willia 
Collier's  tremendous  comedy  hit.  "Nothing  But  the  Truth"  can  be  whole-hearted 
recommended  as  one  of  the  most  sprightly,  amusing  and  popular  comedies  th; 
*his  country  can  boast.  Price,  60  Cent 

IN  WALKED  JIMMY. 

A  comedy  in  4  acts,  by  Minnie  Z.  Jaffa.  10  males,  2  females  (althoug 
any  number  of  males  and  females  may  be  used  as  clerks,  etc.)  Tw 
interior  scenes.  Costumes,  modern.  Plays  2l/2  hours.  The  thing  inl 
•which  Jimmy  walked  was  a  broken-down  shoe  factory,  when  the  clerl- 
had  all  been  fired,  and  when  the  proprietor  was  in  serious  contemplatio 
of  suicide. 

Jimmy,  nothing  else  but  plain  Jimmy,  would  have  been  a  mysterious  figui 
had  it  not  been  for  his  matter-of-fact  manner,  his  smile  and  his  everlastin 
humanness.  He  put  the  shoe  business  on  its  feet,  won  the  heart  of  the  gi 
clerk,  saved  her  erring  brother  from  jail,  escaped  that  place  as  a  permanei 
boarding  house  himself,  and  foiled  the  villain. 

Clean,  wholesome  comedy  with  just  a  touch  of  human  nature,  just  a  dash  < 
excitement  and  more  than  a  little  bit  of  true  philosophy  make  "In  Walked  Jimmji 
one  of  the  most  delightful  of  plays.  Jimmy  is  full  of  the  religion  of  life,  tl 
religion  of  happiness  and  the  religion  of  helpfulness*,  and  he  so  permeates  tl 
atmosphere  with  his  "religion"  that  everyone  is  happy.  The  spirit  of  optimist 
good  cheer,  and  hearty  laughter  dominates  the  play.  There  is  not  a  dull  momei 
lu  any  of  the  four  acts.  We  strongly  reeommend  it.  Price,  60  Cent 

MARTHA  BY-THE-DAY. 

An  optimistic  comedy  in  three  acts,  by  Julie  M.  Lippmann,  author  c 
the  "Martha"  stories.  5  males,  5  females.  Three  interior  scenes.  Co: 
tumes  modern.  Plays  2^  hours. 

It  is  altogether  a  gentle  thing,  this  play.  It  is  full  of  quaint  humor,  ol< 
fashioned,  homely  sentiment,  the  kind  that  people  who  see  the  play  will  reca 
and  chuckle  over  tomorrow  and  the  next  day. 

Miss  Lippmann  has  herself  adapted  her  very  successful  book  for  stage  servic 

n  doing  this  has  selected  from  her  novel  the  most  telling  incidents,  infectiot 

comedy  and  homely  sentiment  -for  the  play,  and  the  result  is  thoroughly  delightfu 

Price,  60  Cent 

(The  Above  Are  Subject  to  Royalty  When  Produced) 
SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street.  New  York  City 

Hew  and  Explicit  Descriptive  Catalogue  Mailed  Free  on  Request 


The  Man  On  The  Box 


A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts 


on  HAROLD  McGRATH'S  Novel  of  the  same 


name 


GRACE  LIVINGSTON  FURNISS 


COPYRIGHT,  1915,  BY  GRACE  LIVINGSTON  PUBNI88 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


CAUTION:— All  persons  are  hereby  warned  that  "THE  MAN  OX 
THE  BOX,"  being  fully  protected  under  the  Copyright  Laws  of 
the  United  States,  is  subject  to  Royalty,  and  any  one  present- 
ing the  play  without  the  consent  of  the  owners  or  their  author- 
ized agents  will  be  liable  to  the  penalties  by  law  provided.  Ap- 
plication for  the  amateur  acting  rights  must  be  made  to  SAMUEL 
FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York.  Application  for  the 
professional  acting  rights  must  be  made  to  The  American  Play 
Company,  33  West  42nd  Street,  New  York. 


New  York: 

SAMUEL  FRENCH 

Publisher 
25  West  45th  Street 


London : 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  Ltd 

26  Southampton  Street 

Strand 


MAN   ON  A   BOX 
ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


Especial  notice  should  be  taken  that  the  possession  of 
this  book  without  a  valid  contract  for  production  first 
having  been  obtained  from  the  publisher,  confers  no  right 
or  license  to  professionals  or  amateurs  to  produce  the  play 
publicly  or  in  private  for  gain  or  charity. 

In  its  present  form  this  play  is  dedicated  to  the  reading 
public  only,  and  no  performance,  representation,  produc- 
tion, recitation,  or  public  reading,  or  radio  broadcasting 
may  be  given  except  by  special  arrangement  with  Samuel 
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This  play  may  be  presented  by  amateurs  upon  payment 
of  a  royalty  of  Twenty-Five  Dollars  for  each  perform- 
ance, payable  to  Samuel  French,  25  West  45th  Street, 
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Whenever  the  play  is  produced  the  following  notice  must 
appear  on  all  programs,  printing  and  advertising  for  the 
play:  "Produced  by  special  arrangement  with  Samuel 
French  of  New  York." 

Attention  is  called  to  the  penalty  provided  by  law  for 
any  infringement  of  the  author's  rights,  as  follows. 

"SECTION  4966: — Any  person  publicly  performing  or  rep- 
resenting any  dramatic  or  musical  composition  for  which 
copyright  has  been  obtained,  without  the  consent  of  the 
proprietor  of  said  dramatic  or  musical  composition,  or  his 
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damages,  in  all  cases  to  be  assessed  at  such  sum,  not  less 
than  one  hundred  dollars  for  the  first  and  fifty  dollars  for 
every  subsequent  performance,  as  to  the  court  shall  appear 
to  be  just.  If  the  unlawful  performance  and  representation 
be  wilful  and  for  profit,  such  person  or  persons  shall  be 
guilty  of  a  misdemeanor,  and  upon  conviction  shall  be  im- 
prisoned for  a  period  not  exceeding  one  year."— :U.  S. 
Revised  Statutes:  Title  60,  Chap.  3. 


FTO 


H 

•THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

CHARACTERS. 

LIEUTENANT  ROBERT  WORBURTON.  .Lately  resigned 

MR.  CHARLES  HENDERSON , His  chum 

COL.  GEORGE  ANNESLEY.  .     A  retired  Army  Officer 

COUNT  KARLOFF A  Russian  Diplomat 

COL.  FRANK  RALEIGH.  ..WORBURTON'S  Regimental 

Colonel 

MONSIEUR  PIERRE The  ANNESLEY'S  chef 

MAGISTRATE  WATTS.. Of  the  third  Precinct  Court 
CLERK  OF  THE  COURT. 

OFFICER  O'BRIEN Of  the  mounted  police 

OFFICER  CASSIDY....O/  the  third  Precinct  Police 

Station 

WILLIAM A  stableboy 

Miss  BETTY  ANNESLEY.. The  COLONEL'S  daughter 

Miss  NANCY  WORBURTON Her  chum 

MRS.  CONWAY Her  confidante 

CORA Her  maid 

ACT  I.    JUDGE  WATT'S  private  examination  room 
in  the  Third  Precinct. 

ACT  II.     The  "  Snuggery "  of   COLONEL 
WESLEY'S  home  at  Chevy  Chase. 

ACT  III     Same  as  ACT  II. 

TIME  : — Now. 

SCENE: — Washington,  D,  C. 
3 


247 


The  Man   On  The  Box 

ACTL 

SCENE  : — JUDGE  WATT'S  private  room. 

DISCOVERED :— CASSIDY  reading  newspaper— 
MARTIN  the  clerk,  writing  at  desk  R.  O'BRIEN 
entering  L.  u.  E. 

O'BRIEN.    Good-morning,  Mr.  Martin. 

MARTIN.    Good-morning,  O'Brien. 

O'BRIEN.    Hello,  Cassidy,  how's  yourself  ? 

CASSIDY.  Hello,  O'Brien!  What  are  you  doing 
here? 

O'BRIEN.  I'm  just  in  as  witness  against  the  fly 
bird  I  run  in  last  night.  He's  in  number  14,  seen 
him  yet  ? 

CASSIDY.    The  dandy  coachman  ?    Sure. 

O'BRIEN.    He's  no  coachman. 

CASSIDY.    What's  he  wearing  livery  for,  then? 

O'BRIEN.  I'm  thinking  he's  got  !^s  livery  not 
long  before  he  <*ot  his  name,  and  he  made  that  up 
as  we  came  along  last  night.  First  he  was  °^oing  to 
have  Robert,  then  Tie  tried  John,  but  anally  he 
settled  down  to  James  Osborne,  and  there  he  stuck- 
and  oh,  Gee !  you  ought  to  have  heard  the  jolly  ha 
gave  me. 

CASSIDY.  He  put  up  a  splendid  talk  with  me  thiis 
morning.  First  thing  1  hears  was  him  yelling 
Porter,  oh,  Porter! 

O'BRIEN.    Thinking  he  was  in  a  Pullman 
5 


6  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

CASSIDY.  Sure;  and  when  I  got  it  into  his  head 
that  he  was  in  the  Police  Station,  he  up  and  gave 
me  what  for ;  because  he  couldn't  get  a  bath — a  bath! 

O'BRIEN.    Didn't  I  say  he  was  no  coachman  ? 

CASSIDY.  I  don't  know  about  that,  but  he's  a 
cracker-jack  to  talk  and  serves  out  his  orders  as  if 
he  was  Boss  of  the  ward.  I  had  my  own  fun  with 
him,  for  with  it  all,  he's  a  good-natured  chap. 

O'BRIEN.  I'm  thinking  he  might  be  a  "  second- 
story  "  man,  or  one  of  those  swell  confidence  fellows 
with  a  slick  new  game  over  from  New  York. 

CASSIDY.  He's  running  a  hot-air  plant  here  all 
right.  What  was  the  trouble  last  night,  anyway  ? 

O'BRIEN.  Disorderly  conduct,  reckless  driving 
and  the  abduction  of  two  female  ladies. 

CASSIDY.  Abduction !  Sure,  by  the  look  of  him, 
I  should  think  he  could  get  all  the  girls  he  wanted, 
just  by  whistling. 

O'BRIEN.    Not  in  the  class  he  was  after  last  night. 

MARTIN.  I  wish  you  two  fellows  would  shut  up ! 
How  do  you  think  I  can  write  with  that  confounded 
buzzing? 

CASSIDY.  (Up  R.)  All  right,  Mr.  Martin. 
(Breaks  off  as  HENDERSON  enters  L.  3)  Well,  sir? 

HENDERSON.  (Crossing  R.)  I  wish  to  see  Judge 
Watts. 

CASSIDY.  He  hasn't  arrived  yet,  sir.  This  is  his 
private  room. 

HENDERSON.  So  I  understand.  (Taking  out 
card)  My  name  is  Henderson,  I  am  on  the  Evening 
Star. 

CASSIDY.  If  you're  a  reporter,  sir,  you'd  best  wait 
outside  till  Court  opens. 

HENDERSON.  My  business  is  personal  and  im- 
portant ;  and  I  want  to  see  the  Judge  before  Court 
opens. 

CASSIDY.    How  about  it,  Mr.  Martin  ? 

MARTIN.  The  Judge  will  see  no  one  until  after 
court.  {Exits  R.  2) 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  7 

HENDERSON.  (Taking  out  money)  He  will  see 
me — he  must.  Say  that  I'll  not  detain  him  a 
moment. 

CASSIDY.  He'll  see  no  one  till  court  is  over. 
(Down  R.) 

HENDERSON.  (Pacing  away  impatiently)  That 
will  be  too  late  for  my  affair.  (Returning  to 
CASSIDY)  See  here,  my  man,  I'll  tell  you  how  it  is. 
A  friend  of  mine  got  into  a  ridiculous  scrape,  was 
arrested  last  night,  and  is  in  the  station-house 
now 

CASSIDY.    If  he  was  in  the  raid 


HENDERSON.  No,  no!  He's  a  friend  of  mine,  a 
gentleman — He  sent  me  a  note  this  morning. 

O'BRIEN.  (L.  of  JUDGE'S  desk)  Then  I'm  think- 
ing your  name  is  Mr.  Charles  Henderson? 

HENDERSON.    Certainly. 

O'BRIEN.    And  what V the  name  of  your  friend? 

HENDERSON.  His  name?  Oh — his  name  is — • 
Jove! — (Pulls  out  letter — glances  at  it)  His  name 
is  James  Osborne! 

O'BRIEN.  I  told  him  last  night  that's  as  good  as 
any  other. 

HENDERSON.    You  saw  him  then  ? 

O'BRIEN.    I  ran  him  in. 

HENDERSON.  Then  of  course  you  know  there  is 
a  mistake. 

O'BRIEN.    Sure !    I  knew  he  was  no  coachman — 

HENDERSON.     (Astounded)     Coachman ! 

O'BRIEN.  (To  CASSIDY  with  a  wink)  What  did 
I  say? 

HENDERSON.  (Recovering  himself)  It's  of  no 
consequence — it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  his 
case  is  not  taken  into  Court.  That  is  why  I  must 
see  Judge  Watts  and  arrange  for  a  private  hearing. 

CASSIDY.  You'll  need  a  pretty  big  pull  to  arrange 
that. 

HENDERSON.  I'll  manage  it  if  I  can  only  see  the 
Judge.  I  must  see  him.  I  will  see  him!  (To 


8  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

CASSIDY,  offering  bill.  O'BRIEN  has  turned  away. 
Tentatively)  If  you  can  persuade  the  Judge  to  see 
the ? 

CASSIDY.  Give  me  your  card,  sir !  I'll  head  him 
off  in  the  corridor.  (Makes  quick  comedy  exit  R.  2) 

O'BRIEN.  I'm  thinking  that  you  didn't  expect  to 
find  your  friend  wearing  a  coachman's  coat,  sir. 

HENDERSON.    Can  I  use  your  telephone  ? 

O'BRIEN.    Sure. 

HENDERSON.  (Finds  it  on  desk  L.  Vehemently) 
Nothing  that  my  friend  could  do  would  surprise  me ; 
nothing. 

O'BRIEN.  (L.  of  desk)  I'm  thinking  the  name 
surprised  you  all  right. 

HENDERSON.  (Looking  through  telephone  book) 
And  I'm  thinking  such  a  Sherlock  Holmes  is  wasted 
on  the  mounted  police.  (Sits  by  desk — takes  up 
'phone)  Dodge  knows  Watts — he's  behind  that 
river  and  harbor  bill.  Hello,  Central!  Give  me 
1430  West. 

O'BRIEN.  Calling  for  help,  are  you  ?  Well — I'm 
thinking 

HENDERSON.  Did  you  ever  try  thinking  with  your 
mouth  shut? 

O'BRIEN.     (Grinning)     That  might  help  some. 

HENDERSON.  Try  it.  (To  'phone)  Is  this 
Senator  Dodge?  Good-morning,  Senator.  (Looks 
up  and  finds  O'BRIEN  looking  over  shoulder. 
O'BRIEN  moves  off)  This  is  Charlie  Henderson, 
I'm  in  the  Police  Court.  Eh?  (With  laugh)  No- 
no — just  trying  to  get  a  friend  out  of  trouble.  He's 
in  an  absurd  sort  of  scrape,  and  I'm  bound  to  get 
him  a  private  hearing,  and  keep  the  thing  out  of  the 
papers.  Eh?  (Listens)  Oh,  his  name — Oh,  yes, 
his  name 

O'BRIEN.    (Down  L.)    You'll  find  it  in  the  letter. 

HENDERSON.  Keep  quiet!  (To 'phone)  No,  no, 
not  you,  Senator.  They're  making  so  much  noise 
here.  His  name  is  James  Osborne — and  I  want  you 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  9 

to  call  up  Judge  Watts  in  five  minutes,  and  demand 
a  private  examination  for  a  man  you  are  interested 
in,  James  Osborne.  No — of  course  you  are  not — 
but  I  want  you  to  say  you  are.  See.  Put  it  up 
to  the  Judge  good  and  strong,  will  you?  (Listens) 
Yes — yes — I'll  give  you  the  story  later.  Meantime, 
thanks — Call  him  up  in  five  minutes.  Please. 
Good-bye.  (Rings  off) 

O'BRIEN.  You  hit  the  mark  that  time,  all  right; 
the  old  man  and  Senator  Dodge  are  pals.  You  know 
the  speaker,  too! 

HENDERSON.  Well,  I  don't.  (In  'phone)  Give 
me  9618  North,  Central.  (Pause)  Hello!  Is  this 
the  Star  ?  Connect  me  with  Mr.  Plunket,  please. 

O'BRIEN.  Going  to  set  the  Press  on  him.  Well, 
well! 

HENDERSON.  (In  'phone)  This  is  Charlie 
Henderson,  Mr.  Plunkett,  I  want  a  little  influence 
to  bear  on  Judge  Watts,  to  make  him  give  a  friend 
of  mine  a  private  examination.  (Listens)  No, 
sir ! !  Nothing  of  that  kind,  I  assure  you.  Just  a 
fool  joke,  and  of  course  he  doesn't  want  to  show 
up  in  Court.  (Listens)  That's  awfully  good  of 
you.  Call  Watts  up  inside  the  next  ten  minutes, 
and  insist  on  a  private  hearing  for  James  Osborne. 
You  know  how  to  put  it — Good-bye !  (Rings  off) 

O'BRIEN.  I'm  thinking  if  you  called  up  the 
President 

HENDERSON.  (Rising  to  R.  and  below  desk)  Oh, 
1  say !  Do  they  keep  you  here  to  make  pleasing  con- 
versation, or,  as  an  ornament? 

O'BRIEN.  Sure!  I'm  the  witness  against  your 
friend. 

HENDERSON.  Witness!  I  wish  to  Heaven  I'd 
had  your  advantage  of  knowing  what  it  is  all  about ! 

(WATTS  enters  followed  by  CASSIDY  R.  2.) 
WATTS.     (Handing  CASSIDY  hat,  who  takes  it  to 


io  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

table  up  and  returns  to  R.)  Where  is — Oh,  is  this 
Mr.  Henderson? 

HENDERSON.  Yes,  sir.  I  ventured  to  be  im- 
portunate in  behalf  of  a  friend  who  is  coming  up 
for  trial  this  morning — It  is  a  mistake  you  under- 
stand, Judge,  a  Joke. 

WATTS.  (To  CASSIDY)  You  said  it  was  a  mat- 
ter of  life  and  death. 

CASSIDY.    The  gentleman  said  so,  your  Honor. 

HENDERSON.  I  daresay  I  exaggerated — I  was  ex- 
cited— The  dear  old  chap's  reputation  is  at  stake,  so 
I  venture  to  beg  the  courtesy  of  a  private  hearing — 

WATTS.  (Interrupting)  Out  of  the  question, 
except  in  cases  of  extreme  delicacy. 

HENDERSON.    But  this  is  a  delicate  case,  sir. 

WATTS.    What  is  the  charge  against  him? 

HENDERSON.  Nothing  serious.  Really.  Judge,  I 
am  not  posted  about  the  affair.  My  friend  dashed 
off  a  hurried  note  asking  me  to  secure  a  private  ex- 
amination  

WATTS.  And  suggesting  that  you  use  your  in- 
fluence as  a  journalist  to  cover  up  his  misdemeanor. 
I've  a  dozen  such  applications  a  week,  and  my 
answer  is  the  same  to  all — Not  to  be  considered. 
(Starts  to  go) 

HENDERSON.    But  Judge! 

WATTS.  (Turning)  I  make  no  exceptions.  I 
regret  to  seem  disobliging,  (Telephone  bell  rings. 
O'BRIEN  answers  it)  Mr.  Henderson,  there  is  a 
principle  involved  in  this — (Starts  to  go) 

O'BRIEN.  (From  telephone)  Your  honor,  for 
you,  sir! 

WATTS.  (Crossing  L.  to  telephone)  Hello! 
This  is  Judge  Watts— Eh?  Oh!  (Very  blandly) 
Good-morning,  my  dear,  Senator.  What  can  I  do 
for  you?  (Listens)  I  certainly  will  strain  a  point 
to  oblige  you,  but  you  know  my  principles. 
(O'BRIEN  winks  to  HENDERSON,  who  involuntarily 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  n 

smiles  back  as  WATTS  turns  to  him)  What  is  your 
friend's  name,  sir? 

HENDERSON.     (Startled)     James  Osborne. 

WATTS.  Humph!  (In  'phone)  Well,  I'll  not 
promise,  Senator ;  I  must  consider  a  bit.  (Listens) 
I  am  of  the  opinion  that  the  mortification  will  do 
your  friend  good.  (Listens)  I  quite  understand 
that  you  made  a  personal  matter  of  the  request.  I'll 
think  it  over.  Excuse  me.  Court  opens  in  ten 
minutes.  (Rings  off,  gets  up,  walks  over  and  con- 
fronts HENDERSON)  Have  you  seen  Senator  Dodge 
this  morning? 

HENDERSON.    No,  sir. 

WATTS.     You  know  him,  of  course. 

HENDERSON.  Not  at  all,  sir.  (Bowing  as  bell 
rings  and  extending  behind  him,  bill  for  CASSIDY. 
Clerk  re-entering  R.  2,  takes  bill  ^vhen  CASSIDY  stops 
him  and  pockets  money  himself.  WATTS  starts  to 
exit  R.  when  telephone  bell  rings — WATTS  takes  it 
up) 

WATTS.  Hello !  You  are  talking  to  Judge  Watts. 
3h,  what  can  I  do  for  you,  Mr.  Plunkett?  (Listens) 

(O'BRIEN  winks  to  HENDERSON,  shakes  his  fist. 
Clerk  at  desk  R.) 

WATTS.  Humph!  This  Osborne  seems  well 
provided  with  friends.  (Listens)  Well,  my  dear 
Plunkett,  since  you  make  it  an  absolutely  personal 
matter,  I  must,  of  course,  yield. 

HENDERSON.     (Aside,  delighted)     Great! 

WATTS.  But  you  understand,  that  I  cannot  let 
my  decision  be  affected.  Very  well,  then,  I  will  do 
it.  Good-bye!  (Rings  off,  looks  around  to  catch 
HENDERSON  waving  his  hat)  I  suppose  you  admit 
knowing  the  Editor  of  your  own  paper  ? 

HENDERSON.    (Slightly  disconcerted)    Naturally. 

WATTS.    I'll  not  ask  if  you've  seen  him  this  morn- 


12  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

ing,  because  as  the  telephone  book  says — "Don't 
call,  telephone."  (Rises) 

HENDERSON.    I  assure  you 

WATTS.  (Crossing  to  door  R.)  I  understand 
your  little  trick,  Mr.  Henderson,  but  it  is  barely 
possible  your  friend  may  wish  you  hadn't  been  quite 
so  clever.  Bring  this  Osborne  in  here,  Cassidy. 
(Goes  to  door  R.  2) 

HENDERSON.    I  cannot  express  my  gratitude. 

WATTS.  Don't  try.  Good-morning !  (Exits  R.  2. 
CASSIDY  exits  R.  3) 

O'BRIEN.  You've  set  his  back  up  all  right  now. 
I'm  thinking  this  Osborne  will  be  up  against  the  law, 
good  and  hard. 

HENDERSON.  Well,  I  got  the  hearing.  Now,  let 
me  think !  Oh !  the  clothes — Has  a  messenger  turned 
up  with  a  suit-case  for  me  ? 

O'BRIEN.  He's  not  been  in  here.  P'raps  he's  in 
the  Warden's  office  below. 

HENDERSON.  I'll  look  him  up.  Tell  Osborne,  I'll 
be  back  in  a  moment.  (Exits  L.  3) 

O'BRIEN.  Did  you  hear  the  way  he  joshed  the 
judge  by  telephone. 

MARTIN.  He's  cooked  Osborne's  goose  by  doing 
it — What's  the  fellow  like  anyway  ? 

O'BRIEN.  Sure,  he's  the  flossiest  thing  that  ever 
blew  down  the  pike.  He's  got  pink  nails,  nice  little 
shiny  pink  nails. 

MARTIN.  Oh,  fade  away,  fade  away.  I'm  busy. 
(Crosses  to  door  R.  2) 

O'BRIEN.  (Glancing  out  of  window  R.  3)  Wait 
and  you'll  see  him !  He's  coming- along  with  Cassidy. 
Spick  and  span  as  a  pin! 

MARTIN.  (Glancing  out  of  door  R.  3)  Is  that 
him?  Well — I  understand  the  row  now!  (Exits 
R.  2) 

O'BRIEN.  (Bowing  to  door  R.  mockingly)  This 
way,  your  Highness,  we're  holding  court  in  here  to- 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  13 

day  for  you.  (Steps  back  down  L.  of  desk  L.  c.  as 
WORBURTON  enters  followed  by  CASSIDY) 

WORBURTON.  (Coming  down  c.)  Hello!  You 
are  the  officer  who  arrested  me,  aren't  you  ? 

O'BRIEN.  Yes,  my  lord,  I  had  the  honor  of  run- 
ning you  in,  and  now  I'm  calling  to  inquire  how  you 
like  the  hotel. 

WORBURTON.  (Good-naturedly)  It's  a  charm- 
ing place — I  wouldn't  let  my  dog  sleep  on  such  a 
bed !  But  then,  my  dog  has  too  much  sense  to  come 
here.  It  is  a  triumph  of  mind  over  matter,  the  only 
place  I  ever  saw  where  you  could  breathe  without 
air ;  wash  without  water ;  dress  without  a  glass,  and 
comb  your  hair  without  a  comb. 

CASSIDY.  (R.)  Didn't  I  loan  you  my  own 
mustache  comb  ? 

WORBURTON.  Oh,  I've  got  it  in  for  you,  you 
wouldn't  bring  me  any  breakfast. 

CASSIDY.  We  run  a  strictly  cash  game  here,  my 
boy,  no  coin,  no  breakfast,  leastwise,  no  fancy  spread 
such  as  you  ordered  from  the  hotel.  Besides,  you 
had  what  the  rest  has. 

WORBURTON.  I  wish  you'd  let  me  forget  that 
coffee  and  bacon,  ink  and  boots — ugh!  (To 
^O'BRIEN  L.)  How  about  that  letter  I  sent  to  Mr. 
Henderson  ? 

O'BRIEN.  He  got  it  all  right !  He's  been  hustling 
here  this  last  half  hour  and  the  Judge  is  coming  to 
give  you  a  private  hearing ! 

WORBURTON.  He  is !  Good  for  Charlie,  I  knew 
he'd  pull  me  through. 

CASSIDY.  If  I'd  seen  your  friend  first,  you'd  have 
got  your  breakfast.  He's  a  gentleman,  he  is.  (Exit 
R.  2) 

WORBURTON.  (To  O'BRIEN)  Still  grinning — 
you  must  have  a  cheerful  disposition — the  last  thing 
I  remember  last  night,  was  you  on  the  broad  grin. 
(Yawns) 

O'BRIEN.     I  can't  get  over  the  cheek  of  you! 


I4  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

Say,  young  fellow,  do  you  happen  to  know  the  name 
of  the  swell  you  was  after  abducting  last  night? 

WORBURTON.  (Irritably)  Abducting!  Non- 
sense !  I  told  you  last  night  it  was  a  mistake ! 
Can't  I  hammer  into  your  thick  head  that  I — er — 
simply  got  the  wrong  carriage?  (Facing  about) 
Abducting !  Bosh !  Why  the  deuce  should  7  abduct 
women ! 

O'BRIEN.  I'm  thinking  it  was  the  ladies'  sparklers 
you  was  after,  not  the  kiss,  and  I'm  thinking  you're 
no  groom.  (Winks) 

WORBURTON.  And  I'm  thinking  that  thinking 
isn't  your  line  of  work,  so  you'd  better  try  some- 
thing easier.  If  you  hadn't  done  so  much  thinking 
last  night,  and  had  taken  me  to  Mr.  Henderson,  I 
could  have  explained  everything,  he  would  have 
answered  for  me.  (Sits  on  desk) 

O'BRIEN.  (Winking)  And  while  I  was  gossip- 
ing with  your  pal,  you'd  have  been  taking  leg  bail. 
He's  a  slick  party  all  right. 

WORBURTON.  Oh,  well,  it  doesn't  matter.  It  was 
merely  a  ridiculous  joke, 

O'BRIEN.  I'm  thinking  that  kiss  wasn't  a  joke, 
to  Miss  Betty  Annesley.  Ah,  ha !  my  buck !  You've 
heard  the  name  before,  haven't  you,  Mr.  James 
Osbornef 

WORBURTON.  Never.  I'm  a  stranger  in  Wash- 
ington. 

O'BRIEN.  You're  a  poor  hand  at  lying.  I'll  say 
that  much  for  you.  But  I  warn  you,  old  Watts  is 
an  equally  poor  hand  at  jokes,  so  you'd  better  tell  the 
truth. 

W'ORBURTON.  The  truth  isn't  picturesque  enough 
to  suit  you,  my  friend;  all  the  same  I'll  not  admit 
that  I'm  either  a  diamond  thief  or  an  abductor  of 
women. 

O'BRIEN.    Why  did  you  kiss  the  lady  then? 

WORBURTON.  Why  does  any  man  kiss  any 
woman  ? 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  15 

O'BRIEN.    'Cause  he  wants  a  kiss.    (Goes  to  door 

L.  3) 

WOBBURTON.  Very  good  for  a  policeman.  You'll 
be  an  inspector  some  day.  (R.  c.  as  HENDERSON 
enters  L.  3)  Jove!  It's  Charley! 

HENDERSON.  (Entering)  Has  he — (Stops, 
stares  at  WORBURTON  amazed)  Why? 

WORBURTON.  (With  servant's  air)  Ah,  Mr. 
Henderson,  your  servant. 

HENDERSON.  (Coming  down  L.  c.  below  desk) 
It  is  you !  Why  you're 

WORBURTON.  (To  O'BRIEN)  If  it's  not  against 
the  law  I'd  like  to  see  my  friend  alone. 

O'BRIEN.  Sure !  I'm  only  in  as  a  witness  against 
you?  Did  you  find  your  bag,  sir?  (Crosses  to 
door  L.  3) 

HENDERSON.  Yes — I  sent  the  suit-case  over  to 
cell  14.  They  said  that  was  the  number. 

O'BRIEN.    That's  right,  sir.     (Exit  L.  3) 

WORBURTON.  (R.  c.)  You  remembered  my 
clothes  ? 

HENDERSON.  (L.  c.)  I've  remembered  every- 
thing— fixed  everything — done  everything.  You  are 
to  have  a  private  examination. 

WORBURTON.  I  knew  you'd  manage  it.  Clever 
old  chap.  Good  old  Charley!  (Pats  his  shoulder 
affectionately) 

HENDERSON.  That's  all  right!  But  next  time 
you  get  in  a  scrape,  give  "  Good  old  Charley  "  the 
facts  to  work  on.  Jupiter !  I  never  felt  such  a  fool 
in  my  life,  demanding  a  private  hearing  when  I  don't 
know  whether  you'd  stolen  a  baby,  or  robbed  a  bank. 

WORBURTON.    I  didn't  have  time. 

HENDERSON.    Time  for  what? 

WORBURTON.    To  write  details. 

HENDERSON.  Well — give  me  the  story  now,  get 
ahead !  Why  are  you  wearing  those  absurd  clothes ! 
Why  have  you  shaved  off  your  beard,  and  why  the 
deuce  are  you  calling  yourself  James  Osborne. 

WORBURTON.    Because  it  struck  me  last  night  it 


16  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

was  a  better  name  for  the  Police  blotter  than  Robert 
Worburton. 

HENDERSON.  (Sits  on  edge  of  desk)  Well,  tell 
me  why  Robert  Worburton  is  in  the  station-house  ? 

WORBURTON.  (Beside  HENDERSON)  Because 
he  is  an  ass!  That  double-dyed,  ingrained,  long- 
eared  ass  called  a  practical  joker.  Jove !  Well,  I'll 
tell  you.  When  you  all  went  off  to  the  ball  at  the 
Embassy  last  night,  you  remember  you  told  me  you 
and  John  were  going  on  to  a  diplomatic  conference, 
leaving  Mrs.  John  and  Nancy  to  drive  home  alone. 

HENDERSON.  Yes,  the  girls  came  back  alone, 
found  you  gone,  your  hat  on  the  rack,  no  explana- 
tion  

WORBURTON.  Wait  a  moment.  The  instant  you 
were  off,  I  had  a  brilliant  inspiration!  Why  not 
shave  my  beard,  borrow  William's  livery,  take  his 
place  on  the  box,  drive  the  girls  home  at  break-neck 
speed,  jump  down  and  scare  the  life  out  of  my  be- 
loved sister,  Nancy,  by  receiving  her  with  a  kiss  ?  I 
thought  she  would  think  I  was  William,  you  know, 
and — (Hesitates,  looks  at  HENDERSON  ruefully) 

HENDERSON.  (Rising,  wrathfully)  And  you 
thought  that  was  a  joke? 

WORBURTON.  I  did  last  night,  but  the  cream  is  a 
little  sour  on  it  this  morning.  (Rises)  However, 
to.  think  it  was  to  do  it,  and  at  two  o'clock  this 
morning  I  met  William  outside  the  British  Embassy. 
He  came  running  down  the  line  to  meet  me,  jammed 
the  carriage  check  in  my  hand,  pointed  out  a 
brougham,  and  fled 

HENDERSON.    And  you 

WORBURTON.  The  confusion  was  infernal. 
Everybody  was  leaving  at  once,  all  the  carriages 
blocked,  policemen  and  coachmen  swearing  so  I  was 
a  trifle  rattled.  However,  I  rushed  up  and  jumped 
to  the  box  just  as  my  number  was  called,  drove  up 
and  took  in  the  girls,  and  started  off  down  the  avenue 
licketty  split. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  17 

HENDERSON.  (Lighting  cigar)  Now,  I  know 
you  are  lying.  They  never  said  a  word  of  all  this. 

WORBURTON.  I  daresay,  because  as  luck  would 
have  it,  I  happened  to  get  the  wrong  carriage. 

HENDERSON.  The  wrong  carriage?  (Bursts  out 
laughing)  By  Jove!  But  that's  rich!  The  wrong 
carriage !  and  the  wrong  girls ! 

WORBURTON.  Funny,  isn't  it?  My  number  was 
17,  but  I  was  rattled ;  as  I  said,  and  read  it  7i. 

HENDERSON.  Serves  you  right.  And  you  didn't 
know  your  own  sister! 

WORBURTON.  Grooms  are  not  supposed  to  turn 
their  heads,  so  all  I  could  see  out  of  the  tail  of  my 
eye  was  two  feminine  bundles  getting  in,  one  in  a 
long  cloak  such  as  I  brought  Nancy  from  Paris — 
Give  me  a  cigar — I'm  dead  for  a  smoke. 

HENDERSON.     (Handing  him  cigar)    And  then? 

WORBURTON.  (Facing  about)  Oh,  I  lost  my 
way  and  my  temper,  took  it  out  of  the  horses,  and 
before  I  could  get  them  in  hand  we  were  tearing 
down  Vermont  Avenue  followed  by  two  mounted 
Policemen — the  women  screaming  like  Canaan- 
chees 

HENDERSON.  (Giving  WORBURTON  light)  Wo- 
men have  no  sense  of  humor,  you  know. 

WORBURTON.  Of  course  I  saw  the  game  was  up 
when  those  beggars  gave  chase,  so  I  rushed  the 
brougham  up  to  the  curb,  jumped  down  just  in  time 
to  catch  Nancy  as  she  fell  out,  and  gave  her  a  sound 
brotherly  smack. 

HENDERSON.    By  Jove !    And  Nancy  was  ? 

WORBURTON.  Miss  Betty  Annesley,  the  girl  with 
whom  I  crossed  on  the  steamer  and  swore  I'd  marry 
if  I  ever  could  get  introduced.  Oh,  it's  a  devil  of  a 
mess. 

HENDERSON.  Never  mind,  Bob !  it's  not  the  first 
romance  that's  ended  in  the  Police  Station. 

WORBURTON.    It's  not  ended.    She  has  promised 


i8  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

to  appear  in  Court  this  morning  and  see  that  the 
punishment  fits  my  crime. 

HENDERSON.     (Laughing)    What's  the  charge  ? 

WORBURTON.  Disorderly  conduct — that's  the  kiss 
— reckless  driving  which  I  admit — and  abduction — 
which  is  bosh !  (Crossing  HENDERSON  to  L.,  leaving 
him  R.) 

HENDERSON.  Abduction!  (Bursts  out  laugh- 
ing) Oh,  Bob,  Bob !  and  the  scream  of  it  is  that  had 
you  gone  to  the  ball  with  your  family,  you  would 
have  met  Betty  Annesley  under  the  happiest  circum- 
stances, for  she  and  Nancy  were  schoolmates,  and 
bosom  friends. 

WORBURTON.  (Blankly)  They  were!  Then  why 
the  deuce  didn't  Nancy  say  so  when  I  described  Miss 
Annesley,  and  my  frantic  attempt  to  get  an  introduc- 
tion on  the  steamer. 

HENDERSON.  Nancy  is  a  joker  herself,  and 
wanted  to  punish  you  for  not  going  to  the  ball  with 
us.  Miss  Annesley  was  stunning  in  white  and 
silver — a  very  fair  excuse  for  love  at  first  sight. 
She  dances  like  a  breeze.  I  had  two  waltzes  while 
you  cooled  your  heels  on  the  box. 

WORBURTON.  Oh,  well,  I'm  ahead  of  the  game, 
for  I  had  a  kiss. 

HENDERSON.    Which  will  cost  you  ten  dollars. 

WORBURTON.  And  would  be  cheap  at  a  million. 
She's — look  here,  Charlie,  I  depend  on  you  to  help 
me  out ;  it's  serious,  with  me,  you  understand.  I'm 
going  to  marry  that  girl. 

HENDERSON.    You  think  she'll  forgive  that  kiss  ? 

WORBURTON.  Who  is  to  tell  her  that  James 
Osborne  and  Robert  Worburton  are  the  same  man  ? 

HENDERSON.  Nancy.  The  dear  girl  couldn't 
keep  a  joke  like  this  in  her  system  two  minutes. 

WORBURTON.  Nancy  will  never  know  anything 
about  it. 

HENDERSON.  You'll  have  to  tell  the  family,  old 
man.  Nancy  is  half  frantic.  When  I  left  the  house 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  19 

she  and  your  brother  John  were  deciding  to  set  the 
detectives  on  your  trail. 

WORBURTON.  I'll  settle  all  that.  As  soon  as  I 
can  wind  up  the  farce  in  Court  this  morning,  I  shall 
write,  saying  that  Stuart  wired  me  to  meet  him  for 
a  hunt  in  Canada,  and  that  I  had  just  time  to  catch 
the  train  last  night.  Then  you  can  say — you're  a 
good  liar,  Charlie — you  can  say 

HENDERSON.    You're  crazy. 

WORBURTON.    No,  I'm  in  love ! 

(CASSIDY  enters  R.  2,  and  O'BRIEN  enters  L.  3.) 

CASSIDY.  His  honor  is  coming  in.  Mother  of 
Mike,  look  at  'im  smoking.  Where  do  you  think 
you  are  ?  In  a  bar-room  ?  (Comes  in  between  them, 
takes  cigars  away  and  goes  up  R.  They  follow  him 
up.  HENDERSON  crosses  around  desk  and  down 

L.   C.) 

O'BRIEN.  The  Judge  won't  stand  for  smoking 
in  his  room — I'll  open  the  door  and  air  it  a  bit. 
(Opens  door  L.  R.  Bows  off) 

WORBURTON.  Say,  Officer,  have  you  any  idea 
what  they  are  liable  to  do  to  me? 

CASSIDY.  (Grinning  cheerfully)  All  that  the 
law  allows.  The  old  man  was  making  speeches  at 
a  charity  dinner  till  two  o'clock  this  morning,  and 
he's  ready  to  hang  the  whole  lot  of  you. 

WORBURTON.     (£//>  R.)    That's  cheerful ! 

HENDERSON.  (Down  L.  of  desk  L.  c.)  And 
what  does  the  law  allow,  officer? 

CASSIDY.  Disorderly  conduct  and  reckless  driv- 
ing is  thirty  days. 

HENDERSON.    Time  to  grow  a  beard,  James. 

CASSIDY.    But  abduction  is  a  crime,  I  reckon. 

WORBURTON.    Abduction !    Bosh ! 

HENDERSON.    How  much  for  the  kiss? 

O'BRIEN.  (Pointing  off  L.  3)  Miss  Annesley 
is  out  there,  you  might  ask  her. 


20  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

HENDERSON.  Miss  Annesley.  By  George!  Let 
me  go  out  this  way.  She  mustn't  see  me !  (Exits 

R-  3) 

WORBURTON.      (Calling)      Charley!     Charley — 

don't  forget  the  clothes. 

CASSIDY.  Quiet!  Quiet!  His  honor  is  coming! 
Don't  you  know  any  better  than  to  bawl  in  a  court- 
room? 

WORBURTON.  (Coming  down  R.  of  desk  L.  c.) 
How  do  I  know  how  to  act.  I  never  was  here  be- 
fore, you  know. 

O'BRIEN.  I've  got  a  hunch  that  you'll  be  here 
again 

WATTS.     (Off)     Can't  stop  now — not  now. 

CASSIDY.  (Up  R.)  Sh!  hats  off!  Here's  the 
Judge. 

WATTS.  (Entering  R.  2  with  clerk.  Clerk  to  desk 
R.)  Now  then,  where  is  the  fellow  who  is  to  have 
a  private  hearing?  Why  isn't  he  ready? 

O'BRIEN.     (Up  L.)    Here  he  is — y our  Honor. 

WATTS.    Well,  well,  what  is  the  charge  ? 

CLERK.  Abduction,  disorderly  conduct,  reckless 
driving. 

WATTS.  (  Taking  papers  and  glaring  at  WORBUR- 
TON) I  don't  wonder  his  friends  want  to  keep  it 
quiet.  Who  is  the  complainant? 

CLERK.    Elizabeth  Annesley. 

WATTS.  Annesley!  Well,  well,  where  is  she? 
Why  doesn't  she  appear — I've  no  more  time  to 
waste.  Call  her,  O'Brien.  I've  only  ten  minutes  to 
spare. 

O'BRIEN.  (Opening  door  L.)  Elizabeth  An- 
nesley! Elizabeth — Oh,  here  she  is,  your  honor. 
(BETTY  and  MRS.  CON  WAY  enter  L.  3)  This  way, 
Miss. 

BETTY.  (As  she  enters)  Am  I  late?  (Seeing 
WORBURTON)  Oh !  there  he  is.  (Aside.  O'BRIEN 
escorts  BETTY  to  chair  L.  of  desk.  MRS.  CONWAY 
sits  beside  her) 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  21 

WATTS.    What  are  you  doing  here,  O'Brien? 

O'BRIEN.  I'm  the  witness,  your  Honor.  I  run 
the  prisoner  in. 

WATTS.  (To  Clerk)  Swear  him  in.  (Bus,  of 
swearing)  Tell  your  story. 

O'BRIEN.  Well,  this  is  the  way  it  was,  your 
Honor.  Me  and  Burns  was  just  turning  in  from 
our  beat  in  Vermont  Avenue,  when  we  heard  a 
smashin'  gallop  and  a  brougham  came  whizzing 
around  the  corner  drawn  by  a  pair  of  spankin'  grays 
and  the  prisoner  sittin'  up  there  on  the  box  lashin' 
'em  like  mad.  Of  course  we  thought  it  was  a  run- 
away and  gave  chase. 

WATTS.    Now  then,  cut  it  short.    Be  brief. 

O'BRIEN.  Yes,  your  Honor.  So  we  chased  'em 
a  couple  of  miles  expecting  a  smash-up  every 
second,  when  bang!  up  comes  the  carriage  to  the 
curb,  down  jumps  the  prisoner,  and  as  the  com- 
plainant falls  out  he  grabs  her 

BETTY.     (Impulsively)     Oh! 

O'BRIEN.  (Observing)  And — and  she  gives  him 
in  charge  and  that's  all. 

WATTS.  Step  aside.  (To  Clerk)  Swear  in  the 
complainant. 

CLERK.  (Crossing  to  L.  Giving  BETTY  the  book) 
You  solemnly  swear  to  tell  the  truth,  the  whole  truth 
and  nothing  but  the  truth,  in  the  case  of  the  people 
against  James  Osborne? 

BETTY.  I  do.  (Closing  eyes.  Clerk  returns  R.  to 
his  desk) 

WATTS.    Where  do  you  live,  Miss  Annesley  ? 

BETTY.    Chevy  Chase. 

WATTS.  Chevy  Chase?  Are  you  related  to 
Colonel  Annesley? 

BETTY.    I'm  his  daughter. 

WATTS.  He  used  to  be  my  colonel — H'm — very 
sorry  to  see  you  in  the  Police  Court,  Miss  Annesley. 
This  is  a  very  serious  charge  you  are  making — • 
abduction. 


22  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

BETTY.     (Impulsively)    Oh,  no !  not  abduction ! 

WATTS.  That  is  the  charge — "  abduction,  dis- 
orderly conduct  and  reckless  driving." 

BETTY.  But  I  was  not  abducted — that  is  so  silly. 
If  it  is  possible  I  would  like  to  withdraw  the  charge 
of  abduction. 

WATTS.    You  withdraw  abduction. 

BETTY.    Yes,  please. 

WATTS.  (To  clerk)  Make  it  disorderly  con- 
duct, reckless  driving.  (Severely  to  WORBURTON, 
who  has  been  furtively  admiring  BETTY,  realises 
he  has  been  addressed  and  starts  to  bow,  recollects 
and  makes  groom's  salute)  You  are  a  lucky  young 
scoundrel.  Now  then,  Miss  Annesley,  tell  your 
story,  as  briefly  as  possible  please. 

BETTY.  That  man  over  there — the  coachman, 
stole  my  brougham  last  night,  outside  of  the  British 
Embassy — at  least,  when  I  came  out  at  two -o'clock 
this  morning,  he  was  in  my  coachman's  place  on  the 
box.  I  did  not  notice  the  change,  got  in  with  my 
friend,  and  supposed  everything  was  all  right,  until 
I  saw  the  man  whipping  the  horses  to  make  them  run 
away. 

WATTS.     He  was  drunk,  officer? 

O'BRIEN.    Sure,  your  Honor,  he  was  drunk. 

( WORBURTON  gives  him  a  quick  look.) 

BETTY.  (  With  fine  impulse)  Oh,  no,  he  was  not. 
He  has  been  smoking  nice  cigars,  but  he  has  not 
been  drinking. 

WATTS.  How  do  you  know  he  has  been  smoking 
nice  cigars? 

BETTY.  (Confused)  I — He — why,  I  just  know — 
but  it  doesn't  matter ;  after  the  horses  had  run  two 
or  three  miles,  the  Policeman  stopped  them,  I 
made  the  charge  and  he  was  arrested,  and  that  is  a» 
there  is  about  it. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  23 

WATTS.  You  merely  charge  him  with  disorderly 
conduct  and  resided  driving? 

BETTY.  Yes — the  officer  thought  he  wanted  my 
jewels,  but  he  only  took — (Breaks  off  confused) 

WATTS.    Hey  ?    What  did  he  take  ? 

BETTY.    Nothing  of  any  consequence 

(Grin  from  WORBURTON,  quickly  covered.) 

WATTS.  It  is  of  consequence — it  is  larceny.  How 
about  it,  Officer — (To  CASSIDY)  Wasn't  this  fellow 
searched  last  night? 

CASSIDY.  Sure,  your  Honor,  we  found  nothing 
in  his  clothes. 

WATTS.     Miss  Annesley  says  he  took 

BETTY.  (Desperately)  Won't  you  please  let  dis- 
orderly conduct  cover  the  whole  ground,  Judge? 

WATTS.  You  must  let  me  take  care  of  you,  my 
dear  young  lady.  Leniency  is  a  great  mistake  in  the 
case  of  a  slippery  young  villain, — (WORBURTON 
zvinces)  like  this  Osborne.  Where  was  your  own 
groom  while  all  this  was  going  on  ? 

BETTY.  He  said  that  he  went  into  a  saloon  to  get 
a  match. 

WATTS.  A  match,  hey?  I  presume  he  indulged 
in  a  few  "  nice  cigars  "  also.  That  will  do. 

(MRS.  CON  WAY  consoles  BETTY  in  pantomime  as 
CASSIDY  pantomimes  WORBURTON  to  step  for- 
ward  R.  of  desk.  CASS.DY  up  c.) 

WATTS.  (Looking  at  papers)  What  is  your 
name? 

WORBURTON.    James  Osborne. 

WATTS.    Say  sir,  when  you  address  me. 

WORBURTON.    James  Osborne,  Sir. 

WATTS.  Who  is  your  counsel — you  are  entitled 
to  a  counsel,  you  know 

WORBURTON.    I'll  not  require  a  counsel,  sir. 


24  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

WATTS.    Hey?    You  plead  guilty? 

WORBURTON.  (Emphatically)  No,  sir!  Not 
guilty.  The  whole  affair  was  a  mistake— er — a 
most  ridiculous  mistake  in  reading  the  carriage 
check.  You  see — er — Sir — my  number  was  17,  and 
I  read  it  71,  and  naturally,  got  the  wrong  carriage. 

WATTS.  What  were  you  doing  off  your  own 
box? 

WORBURTON.  (With  humorous  air)  Getting  on 
to  the  wrong  box. 

WATTS.    I  see — you  went  in  to  get  a  drink. 

WORBURTON.    No,  sir,  I  did  not. 

WATTS.  (To  O'Brien)  You  say  he  was  drunk, 
Officer? 

O'BRIEN.    Yes,  your  Honor. 

WORBURTON.  I  deny  it.  I  had  nothing  but  a 
glass  of  wine  with  my  dinner — er — that  is — why 
the  officer  knows  I  was  as  cool  and  composed  as  he 
was 

O'BRIEN.  It  was  a — a  very  cool  and  composed 
stunt  he  was  after  doing,  yer  Honor — but  he  had  it 
with  him  all  right. 

WATTS.  That  will  do.  (To  WORBURTON)  How 
long  have  you  been  a  coachman? 

WORBURTON.     About — Oh!  twenty-four  hours. 

WATTS.    Who  are  your  employers? 

WORBURTON.    I  am  out  of  a  job  at  present,  sir. 

WATTS.  Do  you  usually  wear  livery  when  you 
are  out  of  a  job? 

WORBURTON.  (Coolly)  Has  that  anything  to 
do  with  the  charge  against  me  ?  I  am  not  accused 
of  stealing  livery,  am  I  ? 

WATTS.  That  may  happen  yet.  The  story  you 
tell  is  absurd 

WORBURTON.  (Half  laughing)  The  whole 
thing  is  absurd 

(BETTY  indignant.) 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  25 

WATTS.  No  impudence!  (Bos  becomes  seri- 
ous) You've  not  explained  anything  to  my  satis- 
faction yet.  The  complainant  says  you  whipped 
the  horses  to  make  then  run  away. 

WORBURTON.  She  was  mistaken,  sir.  They 
bolted,  and  I  whipped  them  to  stop  them. 

WATTS.  Did  you  think  you  were  on  your  own 
carriage  then  ? 

WORBURTON.    Certainly,  sir. 

WTATTS.    And  you  were  sober? 

WORBURTON.    Absolutely,  sir. 

WATTS.  Case  is  closed.  Twenty-five  dollars 
for  disorderly  conduct;  ten  for  reckless  driving. 

WORBURTON.    I  haven't  any  money  with  me,  sir. 

WATTS.  (Interrupting  testily)  Thirty-five  dol- 
lars or  thirty  days — let  me  tell  you  that  you  are 
escaping  very  easily,  thanks  to  Miss  Annesley's 
leniency  in  withdrawing  part  of  the  charge. 

WORBURTON.  I  thank  Miss  Leniency — I  mean 
Miss  Annesley. 

WATTS.  The  young  lady  is  very  evidently  deter- 
mined to  be  charitable,  but  I  don't  intend  to  let  you 
take  advantage  of  her  good  nature.  I  therefore  in- 
sist that  you  return  the  article  you  took  from  her 
last  night. 

(BETTY  in  confusion.) 

WORBURTON.     (Blankly)    Return  it! 

WATTS.  What  did  you  do  with  it?  Throw  it 
away? 

WORBURTON.    Throw  it  away?    Oh,  no,  sir. 

WATTS.  (Irritably)  You  must  have  it  about 
you  somewhere.  You  are  a  scandalous  young 
scamp  in  my  opinion,  and  I  don't  mind  straining 
my  prerogative  to  teach  you  a  lesson.  Return  the 
— er — thing  to  the  officer. 

X WORBURTON  amused,  but  helpless.) 


26  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

BETTY.  (In  agonised  whisper)  Oh !  (Scribbles 
line  on  her  card,  gives  it  to  O'BRIEN  who  gives  it 
to  WATTS  c.) 

WORBURTON.  (Suppressing  smile)  I — I  haven't 
got  it  with  me,  sir. 

WATTS.  Hey!  Haven't  got  it!  What  did  you 
do  with  it  ? 

WORBURTON.  Well — er — the  fact  is,  sir,  that  is 
one  of  those  things  that  no  fellow  can  find  out. 

WATTS.  Hey,  what?  (As  O'BRIEN  hands  him 
the  card.  O'BRIEN  retires  up  L.)  What's  this? 
(Puts  on  his  glasses)  Be  careful,  sir,  or  I'll  fine 
you  for  contempt  until  you  can  find  out — (Glancing 
at  card,  reads:)  "  He  took  a  " — (Looks  amazed — 
but  amused — BETTY  doesn't  look  up — WATTS  drops 
card  in  his  pocket — says  to  CASSIDY)  Lock  him 
up,  Officer,  until  the  fine  is  paid. 

(CASSIDY  motions  to  WORBURTON — opens  door  and 
follows  him  off  R.  u.  E.  WATTS  rises,  goes  to 
BETTY.  O'BRIEN  exits  L.  3.  CLERK  gathers  up 
his  papers — BETTY  and  MRS.  CON  WAY  rise.) 

WATTS.  (Coming  down  R.  of  desk)  Allow  me 
to  compliment  you,  Miss  Annesley,  on  your  moral 
courage  in  pressing  the  charge  against  that  young 
ruffian.  When  it  comes  to  the  point,  most  women 
say,  "  Oh,  let  the  poor  thing  go." 

BETTY.  (Coming  c.)  I  am  a  soldier's  daughter, 
you  know,  Judge  Watts,  and  have  been  taught  to 
respect  discipline. 

WATTS.  Just  what  I  should  have  expected  from 
Colonel  Annesley — My  regards  to  him.  Good- 
morning.  (Exits  hastily  R.  2nd) 

MRS.  CON  WAY.  (Down  L.  c.)  What  a  perfectly 
insufferable  old  man.  I  thought  he  was  going  to 
have  the  whole  story  out  before  those  nasty  police- 
man. What  did  you  write  on  the  card. 

BETTY.      (Pointing    to    CLERK)      Ssh!     I   just 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  27 

scrawled  "  He  took  a  kiss,"  and  the  dear  old  man, 
saw  it  all.  So  clever  of  him. 

MRS.  CON  WAY.  Well,  come  away.  I  am  ready 
to  faint.  Just  think.  This  is  where  they  hang  peo- 
ple. (Crossing  R.  of  desk  and  peering  through 
window.  CLERK  rises,  collecting  his  papers) 

BETTY.  No,  it  isn't.  Please  wait,  dear.  (Tak- 
ing out  pocket-book  nervously)  One  moment,  sir 
— Are  you  the — the  person — the  official  that  takes 
the  fines.  (Goes  to  him  R.  c.) 

CLERK.    Yes,  madam,  I  am  clerk  of  the  Court. 

BETTY.  Then  will  you  please  take  this  for  James 
Osborne?  (Handling  him  roll  of  bills)  I  wish  to 
pay  his  fine. 

CLERK.     (Amazed)     You  wish  to  pay  his  fine? 

BETTY.     I  thought  anyone  could  pay  it. 

CLERK.  They  can.  Oh,  certainly,  it's — it's  per- 
fectly correct.  Thank  you.  I  am  sure  he'll  not  ob- 
ject. (Records  payment) 

BETTY.    Now,  he  is  free,  isn't  he? 

CLERK.    Of  course. 

BETTY.  Would  you  oblige  me  with  paper  and 
an  envelope  ?  I  want  to  write  a  note— and  a  pencil, 
please. 

CLERK.  (Arranging  writing  materials)  I'll  take 
this  out  to  the  Warden  and  have  Osborne  released. 
Sit  right  down  here,  madam. 

BETTY.  (Giving  him  a  dazzling  smile  as  she 
sits)  So  good  of  you.  So  sorry  to  be  troublesome. 

CLERK.  (Gallantly)  Madam,  your  presence  in 
this  round-up  for  crooks  and  sharpers,  is  like  a 
glass  of  champagne  floating  on  a  sea  of  mixed  ale. 
(Bows,  and  exits  R.  2ND) 

BETTY.     (To  MRS.  CONWAY)     Isn't  that  lovely? 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Lovely?  I  think  everything  and 
everybody  is  simply  awful.  Do  come  away  Betty. 

BETTY.    Wait  till  I  scribble  this  note. 

MRS.  CONWAY.     (To  R.  c.)     The  idea  of  paying 


28  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

the  fine  of  the  brazen  creature.  I  know  they  all 
think  you  are  crazy — drunken  wretch ! 

BETTY.  He  was  not  drunk.  I  told  you  that  last 
night  ? 

MRS.  CONWAY.  How  do  you  explain  the  kiss 
then?  (Over  to  desk  R.  c.) 

BETTY.  (Plaintively)  Must  a  man  be  drunk  be- 
fore he  wants  to  kiss  me  ? 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Well,  Betty  Annesley,  you  cer- 
tainly are  an  enigma.  So  cold  and  prudish,  that 
men  call  you  an  iceberg,  and  yet,  paying  the  fine  of 
a  man  who  insulted  you  before  two  policemen. — 
Joking  about  the  insult  of  a  groom!  (Crossing  to 

L.C.) 

BETTY.  (Crossing  to  JUDGE'S  desk  L.  c.)  He  is 
not  a  groom,  Mrs.  Conway.  Didn't  you  notice  his 
hands  this  morning?  He  has  the  muscular  hands 
of  an  athlete,  and  a  gentlemen. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  And  the  morals  of  a  pirate.  If 
I  had  anything  to  say  about  it  he  should  have  his 
thirty  days 

BETTY.  (Rising,  putting  note  in  envelope) 
There  are  worse  punishments  than  thirty  days — 
(Giving  MRS.  CONWAY  a  mischievous  glance)  I'm 
something  of  a  humorist  you  know,  and  after  lying 
awake  all  night,  I  found  a  more  subtle  revenge  than 
locking  up  Mr.  James  Osborne.  (Laughs) 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Are  you  going  to  get  Colonel 
Annesley  to  horsewhip  him? 

BETTY.  Dear  no!  I  don't  need  papa's  help — 
(Bends  over  directing  note)  I  wonder  where 
on  earth  I  have  met  James  Osborne  before? 
There  is  something  very  familiar  about  him. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  His  manners  perhaps.  Honestly 
Betty,  I  don't  see  how  you  can  forgive  that  kiss, 
he  ought  to  be  made  to  pay  for  it. 

BETTY.  (Joining  her)  That  is  my  exact  inten- 
tion. I  pay  the  fine,  and  he  pays  for  the  kiss. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  29 

(O'BRIEN  re-enters  L.  3RD — CLERK  R.  2ND.  CLERK 
enters  and  goes  to  desk  R.)  Oh,  officer! 

O'BRIEN.    Miss  ? 

MRS.  CONWAY.  (Moving  to  door)  Do  hurry, 
Betty. 

BETTY.  (To  O'BRIEN.  Gives  him  ^  note  and 
money)  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  give  this  to 
James  Osborne? 

O'BRIEN.    To  James  Osborne,  Miss  ? 

BETTY.    The  prisoner. 

O'BRIEN.    Yes,  Miss. 

BETTY.    Is  this  the  way  out? 

O'BRIEN.  Yes,  Miss,  come  with  me,  Miss.  (Exit 
L.  3  with  MRS.  CONWAY  and  BETTY  who  exchange 
bows  with  CLERK,  and  turning,  thank  O'BRIEN  es- 
pecially) 

CLERK.  Gee !  But  she's  a  Star !  (R.  c.  turns  to 
look  with  air  of  disfavor  at  WORBURTON,  who  re- 
enters  wearing  summer  suit — HENDERSON  and 
CASSIDY  follow.  HENDERSON  crosses  above  desk 
L.  c.  to  down  L.  c.) 

WORBURTON.  (Angrily)  I'll  settle  that  fine 
now,  if  you  please.  (Draws  out  bunch  of  bills) 

CLERK.     (Dryly)     Fine  has  been  paid. 

WORBURTON.     (Amazed)     Who  paid  it? 

CLERK.    Miss  Annesley. 

WORBURTON.  (Astounded)  Miss  Annesley!  I 
can't  permit  it. 

HENDERSON.  (Below  desk  L.  c.  Mockingly) 
Beautiful,  beautiful  feminine  sympathy,  always 
ready  to  gush  forth  on  the  wicked. 

CLERK.  Don't  you  worry  about  the  sympathy. 
She's  got  it  in  for  him  all  right.  (To  WORBURTON) 
And  if  ever  you  run  up  against  her  again,  mind  your 
eye  that's  all.  (Exit  with  CASSIDY  R.  2) 

WORBURTON.  (To  HENDERSON)  What  the 
dickens  do  you  suppose  it  means?  If  she  felt  that 
way  about  it,  why  not  withdraw  the  charge? 
and  save  her  thirty-five  dollars  ? 


30  iTHE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

HENDERSON^  If  you  ask  me,  I  think  the  clerk 
is  right.  r  From"  what  Nancy  tells  me  I  fancy  that 
she  is  rather  an  original  young  lady,  and  that  pos- 
sibly she  hasja  gattling  gun  up  her  sleeve  for  you. 

O'BRIEN.  "  (Ironically — re-entering  L.  3  to  WOR- 
BURTON) Note  for  Mr.  James  Osborne.  (As 
WORBURTON  tears  it  open)  Sure,  it's  a  great  thing 
to  be  a  good  looker.  I'm  thinking  that  if  ye'd  have 
a  jimber  jaw  and  a  pugnose  ye'd  have  paid  your 
own  fine.  (Exit  R.  2.  WORBURTON  is  looking  at 
letter) 

HENDERSON.     (Starting  up)    Ready,  Bob? 

WORBURTON.     No — here — listen  to  this !     (HEN- 
DERSON comes  down.    Reads) 
"  James  Osborne." 

Sir:  I  have  discharged  my  groom  for  neglecting 
his  duty  and  recalling  the  masterly  way  in  which 
you  handled  his  horses  last  night,  think  you  are 
qualified  to  take  his  place  so  I  will  give  you  this 
chance  to  redeem  yourself,  if  you  will  promise  to 
let  whiskey  alone. 

HENDERSON.  She  wants  you  to  drive  the  water 
wagon,  old  man. 

WORBURTON.  (Reading)  "  Bring  your  reference 
out  to  Chevy  Chase  :  :  three  o'clock  this  afternoL  .. 
If  satisfactory  your  wages  will  be  forty  dollars  a 
month."  Yours  truly,  Betty  Annesley.'' 

(WTORBURTON  folds  letter,  sticks  ,';  in  his  pocket, 
looks  at  HENERSON  with  humorous  expression.) 

HENDERSON.  You'll  accept  the  chance  to  redeem 
yourself  of  course. 

WORBURTON.  (Promptly)  Wouldn't  miss  it  for 
a  farm— it's  a  rare  opportunity  to  study  her  at  close 
range.  Oh,  I  knew  she  was  a  remarkable  girl.  Her 
groom!  By  Jove!  a  ride  every  day  wi:h  her.  (At 
desk  c.  quickly  with  papers  and  pen)  Come  here 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  31 

Charlie !  write  my  reference !  (Seating  him  at  desk 
R.  c.) 

HENDERSON.  You  don't  seriously  intend  going  on 
with  this  fool  masquerade  ? 

WORBURTON.  (  With  rising  enthusiasm  to  the  end 
of  act)  It's  an  adventure  after  my  own  heart — 
she's  no  maudlin  fool  reforming  stray  ruffians  who 
insult  her.  She's  bluffing,  Charlie,  and  I'll  call  her. 

HENDERSON.  And  queer  yourself  forever.  You 
couldn't  be  two  days  in  the  house  without  being 
found  out. 

WORBURTON.  Who  is  to  tell  her.  I  bet  you 
wouldn't  have  known  me  without  a  beard. 

HENDERSON.    You  can't  fool  Nancy. 

WORBURTON.    I  can  dodge  her. 

HENDERSON.    But 

WORBURTON.  It's  no  use,  Charlie;  I'm  going  to 
see  this  thing  through  at  any  cost.  Her  groom! 
Please  do  imagine  me  tipping  my  cap 

HENDERSON.  Yes!  And  eating  with  the  cook, 
and  scrubbing  out  the  stables 

WORBURTON.  My  dear  fellow,  after  five  years 
of  active  service  on  the  plains,  I'm  not  the  man  to 
stick  at  trifles !  (  Glancing  at  watch — L.  of  HENDER- 
SON at  desk)  Jove!  I've  just  time  to  arrange 
matters,  and  catch  the  train  for  Chevy  Chase — 
(Shaking  hands)  Thanks  again  for  this  morning, 
old  man;  I'll  wire.  (Starts  to  door  L.  3) 

HENDERSON.  (Turning  in  chair)  But  your 
brother — Nancy ! 

WORBURTON.  (Turning)  Tell  them  that  I 
rushed  off  to  hunt  big  game — but — (Winks)  for 
Heaven's  sake  don't  tell  them  the  species. 

HENDERSON.  (With  comical  shrug)  In  love! 
(Exits) 

WORBURTON.     That's  it — in  love!     (Exit  L.  3) 

QUICK  CURTAIN. 


32  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 


ACT  II. 

SCENE  : — The  "  Snuggery  "  of  COLONEL  ANNESLEY'S 
home  at  Chevy  Chase. 

The  "Snuggery"  in  c.  I.  Two  long  French 
windows  rear  fiat,  show  vista  of  garden.  Door 
from  hall  R.  2  E.,  door  from  music  room  L.  4  E. 
Bookcase  around  wall.  Fireplace  just  above  L. 
2  E.  Library  table  c.  with  litter  of  papers, 
books,  cigar-box,  etc.,  on  it.  Small  table  up 
L.  with  sheets  of  waxed  drawing  cloth  covered 
by  large  thin  red  books.  Waste-paper  basket  R. 
of  library  table,  chairs  and  bric-a-brac  ap- 
propriate and  handsome. 

Foots — full  white — bunches — white  R.  and  L. 
Amber  through  window  R.  and  across  window 
L.  c.  Red  glow  fireplace  (M)  at  rise. 

TIME: — One  month  later — Morning. 

DISCOVERED: — CORA,  a  coquettish  little  maid 
arranging  flowers.  PIERRE,  a  fat  middle-aged 
chef,  wearing  clean  white  cap  and  apron  and  a 
large  rose  in  his  button-hole,  sticks  his  head  in 
door  L.  2. 

PIERRE.     (Hissing)     St.  St. 
CORA.    Go  'way. 
PIERRE.    Zere  is  one  here? 
CORA.    No  one. 

PIERRE.     (Enters  tragically  L.  2)     Zen  I  may 
come  in.    Vere  ees  Mees  Annesley? 
CORA.    (R.)    Out  riding. 

PIERRE.    Vith  zat  villain  groom  Zhames  Osborne, 
eh?    Cora? 

CORA.     Certainly — gracious!     Pierre,  your  face 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  33 

Is  the  color  of  a  broiled  live  lobster.  Go  back  to 
your  kitchen.  You  have  no  business  here. 

PIERRE.  I  haf  come  to  make  ze  formal  complaint. 
I  am  full  of  ze  bottle  angaire !  I  haf  been  outrage, 
insult  by  zat  cattle  Zhames.  He  haf  refuse,  posi- 
tively r-refuse  to  wait  at  ze  dinnaire  next  week. 

CORA.  (Coming  to  R.  c.  table  to  arrange  things) 
Good !  Miss  Annesley  has  no  business  to  ask  him. 
He's  a  groom,  not  a  butler. 

PIERRE.  I  haf  said  to  her,  I  haf  said,  mademoi- 
selle, he  vill  vaft  ze  bouquet  de  horse  around  ze 
table,  he  vill  spill  ze  soup  over  ze  back  of  ze  guest. 
He  vill  drop  ze  plate !  But  she  say,  oh !  you  are  so 
clevaire,  Pierre,  you  can  teach  him! 

CORA.     (At  table)    And  he  refused. 

PIERRE.    Vith  insult !    He  haf  call  me  a  fat  cook. 

CORA.     (Laughing)    He's  so  full  of  fun. 

PIERRE.  Fun!  It  is  to  laugh — I  think  not — no! 
Ven  I  haf  say  zat  eet  vas  Mees  Annesley's  order, 
zat  he  take  Perkin's  place,  he  say,  not  me,  you  fat 
cook !  Zat  to  me !  He  call  me  fat ! 

CORA.  (With  mock  sigh)  He's  got  a  perfectly 
grand  figure  himself. 

PIERRE.    You  think  so. 

CORA.  (Down  R.,  picks  up  paper  from  floor) 
There  ain't  a  swell  in  Washington  to  match  him. 
He's  just  grand. 

PIERRE.  (Folding  his  arms)  Ver'  good!  Eet 
is  now  up  on  ze  top  of  Mees  Annesley,  eef  she  keep 
Zhames,  I  go ! 

CORA.  (Throwing  paper  in  basket.  Significantly) 
It  won't  be  him,  you  bet. 

PIERRE.  Oh,  la,  la!  (Goes  L.  angrily,  stops  at 
door)  She  can  get  a  dozen  pretty  face  boys  for  her 
horse,  but  a  chef  like  me  again  nevaire ! 

CORA.  (Following  him,  straightening  rug  L.  be- 
fore  fire)  Take  care,  Pierre — There's  a  mystery 
about  James — Miss  Betty  torments  him,  but  she 


34  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

does  not  treat  him  like  a  groom  and  /  don't  believe 
he  is  one. 

PIERRE.  (Back  to  c.  over  CORA)  He  ees  perhaps 
some  great  duke  incognito,  I  think  so.  Yes,  (  With 
angry  laugh)  Ha,  ha,  vat  a  fool  you  women  are! 

CORA.  (Up  facing  him)  We  like  heroes  all 
right,  and  James  did  what  no  one  else  could  do, 
when  he  broke  that  awful  horse,  P'>ate. 

PIERRE.  Oh,  la,  la!  I  could  haf  ride  Pirate  my- 
self. (Goes  up  to  window  R.  u.  looks  out) 

(COLONEL  ANNESLEY  enters  L.  u.  E.  and  crosses  to 
table  R.  u.) 

CORA.  (Crossing  L.  to  fireplace)  Bah,  you 
jealous  old  fool;  why,  I've  seen  Pirate  buck  the 
Colonel  off  and  to-day  Miss  Betty  is  riding  him ! 

ANNESLEY.  (Coming  down  steps  startled)  You 
say  my  daughter  is  riding  Pirate ! 

CORA.    Oh!    Colonel! 

PIERRE.  (In  window  up  R.)  Yes,  Mees  Betty 
ride  him — (Looking  out)  and  here  she  come  on 
Zhames'  horse,  her  hair  torn  down,  her  dress  rip — 

ANNESLEY.  (Going  to  window  R.  u.)  He  has 
thrown  her !  Reckless,  foolish  child ! 

CORA.  (Going  up  between  chair  and  steps  L.  u.) 
She's  killed !  She's  killed !  (Dropping  dust  cloth 
in  excitement) 

(BETTY  laughs  outside  R.) 

PIERRE.  She  seem  not  to  be  hurt — (Gives  way  to 
I*,  up) 

ANNESLEY.     There's  been  an  accident,  I'm  sure. 

(BETTY  enters  quickly  through  windoiv;  her  hair 
hangs  over  her  shoulders;  she  is  holding  her 
skirt  together,  and  laughing — stops  abruptly 
seeing  her  fattier.) 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  35 

BETTY.  Now,  Dad !  I  meant  to  run  upstairs  be- 
fore you  saw  me. 

ANNESLEY.    You  rode  Pirate! 

BETTY.  Only  part  way — Don't  look  so  frightened, 
Dad.  I'm  all  right. 

ANNESLEY.  (Drops  down  R.  with  BETTY)  I'll 
have  the  brute  shot! 

BETTY.  (Seizing  his  arm,  draws  him  down  R.  c.) 
No,  you  won't — he's  a  darling. 

ANNESLEY.  (Expostulating)  He's  not  fit  for  a 
woman  to  mount ;  James  omght  to  be  horse-whipped ! 

BETTY.  Poor  James  did  his  best  to  prevent  me ; 
it  was  all  my  fault.  I  wanted  to  show  off  and  let 
James  see  that  I  could  ride  anything  that  he  could. 

ANNESLEY.  (With  feeling;  dropping  in  chair  R. 
of  table  c.)  You  might  have  been  killed ! 

BETTY.  (Swings  around  L.  of  table  holding 
COLONEL  ANNESLEY'S  hands.  Enthusiastically) 
Not  with  James  along.  Oh,  Dad,  it  was  splendid. 
(As  she  describes  accident  PIERRE  and  CORA  move 
up  L.)  Pirate  went  along  like  a  lamb  at  first,  and 
everything  was  lovely  till  I  gave  him  a  sly  dig  with 
my  heel  to  wake  him  up!  (With  laugh)  And  he 
waked  up  I  can  tell  you.  All  I  remember  was  trees, 
houses,  carriages,  dogs  flashing  by,  while  I  hooked 
my  knee  around  the  pommel  and  held  on,  trying  to 
keep  my  senses ! 

ANNESLEY.     Betty ! 

BETTY.  I  knew  I  "was  all  right  if  I  could  hold  on, 
for  I  heard  James  thundering  along  behind  me 
getting  nearer  and  nearer.  Then  my  breath  gave 
out,  my  hands  let  go  and  I  was  just  slipping  off 
when  James  rushed  alongside,  grabbed  Pirate's 
bridle,  pulled  me  right  over  on  Dick,  and  I  fainted. 
When  I  came  to,  I  was  lying  on  the  ground,  with 
poor  James  on  his  knees  beside  me. 

ANNESLEY.     (Rising)     Clever  fellow!     (Starts 

BETTY.  (Restraining  him)  No,  no,  let  him 
up  R.)  I  must  see  him!  Thank  him! 


36  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

alone.  He's  such  a  queer  fellow.  He  wouldn't 
allow  me  to  say  a  word,  but  just  bundled  me  on  to 
Dick,  and  walked  me  home  respectfully  scolding 
every  single  step.  (Turns  L.  catching  sight  of  her- 
self in  mirror  on  mantel  L.)  Heavens!  What  a 
figure !  (  Tucking  up  her  hair,  as  CORA  kneels  c.  to 
arrange  her  skirt  R.  of  BETTY.  PIERRE  drops  down 
L.  between  armchair  and  steps)  Well — Pierre,  what 
are  you  doing  here  ? 

PIERRE.  In  view  of  ze  tragedy,  Mademoiselle,  I 
vait. 

BETTY.    Nonsense!    What  is  it? 

PIERRE.  It  is  only  zat  Zhames  have  flat — r-ref  use 
to  serve  at  ze  dinnaire. 

ANNESLEY.  (At  table  R.  c.)  Quite  right.  Why 
the  deuce  should  he ! 

BETTY.    Perkins  is  ill. 

ANNESLEY.  (Comes  down  R.  c.)  He  was  all 
right  this  morning. 

BETTY.  (Mischievously)  He  had  a  sudden 
attack — Now,  don't  you  meddle,  Dad.  (To  PIERRE) 
I  will  speak  to  James.  It  is  a  little  unusual  to  ask  a 
groom  to  take  the  butler's  place,  but  I  am  sure  he 
will  oblige  me  if  I  put  the  matter  properly. 

PIERRE.  Propairelee,  to  ze  groom.  (Bowing) 
But  it  is  for  Mademoiselle  to  say.  (Exits  L.  2  E.) 

BETTY.  Never  mind  the  skirt,  Cora.  (CORA  picks 
up  dust  cloth  L.  c.  and  exits  R.  2  around  at  back. 
Hugging  the  COLONEL  impulsively)  Wasn't  it  the 
loveliest  adventure,  Dad? 

ANNESLEY.  I  can't  endure  to  think  of  it !  You 
must  not  take  such  risks,  dear.  How  could  I  live 
without  you.  The  only  joy  I've  known  since  your 
mother  died,  was  to  see  you  happy — you  have  had 
a  happy  life,  eh,  Betty? 

BETTY.  Indeed  I  have.  (Kisses  him  impulsively) 
But  I'm  afraid  you've  made  me  selfish — Mrs.  Con- 
way  says  I'm  an  extravagant  wretch,  am  I,  Dad? 

ANNESLEY.    Nothing  is  too  good  for  you. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  37 

BETTY.  (Giving  him  a  playful  shake)  I  didn't 
ask  that.  Am  I  spending  too  much  money,  if  I  am 
you  must  tell  me,  and  I'll  economize. 

ANNESLEY.    (With  laugh)    Do  you  know  how ? 

BETTY.  Yes,  indeed !  You  don't  buy  violets,  and 
have  all  your  skirts  lined  with  percaline.  (AN- 
NESLEY laughs  slightly  and  moves  R,)  Oh,  you 
needn't  laugh.  Mary  Sanders  gave  up  everything  to 
marry  her  poor  Lieutenant,  and  she  said  that  was 
the  way  she  did. 

ANNESLEY.  (At  R.  c.)  Yes,  she  turned  into  a 
dowdy. 

BETTY.  She  loved  her  husband,  and  I  love  you. 
(ANNESLEY  sighs)  Oh,  Daddy  darling,  what  is  it 
that's  wrong ;  you've  not  been  like  yourself,  since 
we  were  at  Monte  Carlo.  You  make  mysterious 
little  journeys  alone  and  come  back  looking  tired, 
fagged  and  miserable.  You  seem  worried  all  the 
time,  and  won't  joke,  as  you  used  to. 

ANNESLEY.    Nonsense. 

BETTY.  I'll  not  be  put  off,  Dad.  Something  is 
wrong.  If  it  is  not  money,  what  is  it?  Tell  me. 

ANNESLEY.  There  is  nothing  to  tell,  dearie,  I — 
well — I've  had  important  business  in  various  places 
which  necessitated  my  presence,  but  it  is  all  settled, 
and  there  will  be  no  more  trips. 

BETTY.    And  no  more  worry  and  plenty  of  money  ? 

ANNESLEY.    Lots  of  it. 

BETTY.  Lovely.  I'm  not  mercenary,  you  know, 
but  when  I  am  an  angel  I  shall  want  even  the  darkest 
cloud  to  have  a  silk  lining,  and 

ANNESLEY.  (With  burst  of  impatience)  Run 
away  and  dress,  dear ;  I  have  work  to  do,  and  Count 
Karlotf  is  coming  out.  (Crosses  to  cabinet  R.,  un- 
locks it.  Takes  papers  out) 

BETTY.  (Dismayed,  with  a  look  to  her  dress  and 
moving  up  L.  as  if  to  go)  Karloff!  Oh,  dear. 
Well — I  need  not  see  him.  Make  this  little  accident 
an  excuse — I  don't  wish  to  see  him. 


38  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

ANNESLEY.  (With  displeased  surprise.  Closing 
cabinet  and  locking  it  and  bringing  papers  to  table 
and  standing  c.  of  it)  Isn't  this  rather  a  sudden 
change  ? 

BETTY.  I  have  to  do  something  to  cool  him  off, 
Dad.  I've  allowed  him  to  show  me  attentions  and 
he  has  taken  me  too  seriously. 

ANNESLEY.  (At  table)  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it. 
Karloff  is  a  fine  fellow.  Aside  from  his  money  and 
position  in  diplomatic  circles,  he  is  a  man  any  woman 
might  be  proud  to  win.  I  can  only  say  that  you 
have  treated  him  very  badly. 

BETTY.    Why,  Dad! 

ANNESLEY.  Very  badly.  (Sitting  R.  of  table) 
You  allowed  him  to  follow  you  all  over  Europe,  and 
since  our  return  he  has  reason  to  believe  himself 
your  preferred  cavalier 

BETTY.  Oh,  no,  Dad!  (Treating  the  matter 
lightly)  I  have  been  slowing  him  down  for  a  whole 
month — and 

ANNESLEY.    Is  there  someone  else? 

BETTY.     Two  or  three  hundred — but 

ANNESLEY.  I  advise  you  to  think  the  matter  over 
carefully.  Your  tone  is  capricious  and  almost  un- 
womanly. 

BETTY.  Oh!  (Goes  L.  hurt  at  his  stern  tone,  is 
about  to  exit) 

ANNESLEY.  Betty !  (She  runs  back  to  him  above 
table,  pleased)  I  was  cross.  I  didn't  mean  it,  etc. 
Forgive  me. 

CORA.     (Entering  R.  2)     Mrs.  Conway.     (Exits') 

(MRS.  CONWAY  enters.) 

BETTY.  (Greeting  her  R.  c.)  This  is  a  surprise, 
dear. 

(CoL.  ANNESLEY  rises,  goes  above  table  L.  c.) 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  39 

MRS.  CONWAY.  I  have  just  left  the  Whitakers' 

tea (Shaking  hands  with  ANNESLEY,  L.  c.)  and  I 

thought  I  must  drop  in  for  a  moment— and  now 
don't  let  me  detain  you  with  my  foolish  chatter, 
Colonel 

BETTY.  Dad  loves  gossip — (Ringing  bell)  we  will 
have  tea. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Not  for  me!  (Perceiving 
BETTY'S  condition  as  BETTY  drops  down  R.  c.) 
Good  gracious !  Have  you  had  an  accident,  Betty  ? 

BETTY.  Nothing  to  speak  of.  (As  CORA  enters) 
Tea,  Cora. 

(CoRA  goes  around  and  exits  L.  2.) 

ANNESLEY.  She  insisted  on  riding  Pirate;  the 
most  vicious  brute  in  the  stables,  and  but  for  the 
groom  would  have  been  killed. 

MRS.  CONWAY.    Good  Heavens ! 

ANNESLEY.  If  you  will  excuse  me,  I  will  go  and 
express  my  gratitude  to  him.  (Goes  up  around  to 

R.) 

(MRS.  CONWAY  crosses  L.) 

BETTY.  You  had  better  let  him  alone,  Dad. 
(Going  up  R.  to  him) 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Oh!  No!  The  Colonel  should 
go  at  once  and  overwhelm  him  with  thanks,  whether 
he  likes  it  or  not. 

ANNESLEY.  I  certainly  think  I  should  give 
prompt  recognition  to  such  courage.  (Exit  R.  c.) 

BETTY.     (Up  R.  at  window)     Now  Dad 

MRS.  CONWAY.  (Detaining  her)  Let  him  go, 
dear,  I  was  dying  to  get  rid  of  him.  Oh,  Betty, 
of  all  impossible,  unimaginable  people,  who  do  you 
think  I  met  at  the  Whitakers'  ? 

BETTY.     (Still  looking  off)    Can't  imagine. 

MRS.  CONWAY.   Judge  Watts — (BETTY  turns)  the 


40  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

awful  little  person  at  the  Police  Court,  who  said  he 
knew  your  father. 

BETTY.    Did  he  remember  you? 

MRS.  CONWAY.  We  were  not  introduced,  but  he 
will  be  here  in  ten  minutes. 

BETTY.  Oh,  no !  (Startled,  comes  down  to  MRS. 
CONWAY)  He  must  not  come. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  But  he  is  coming.  Imagine  my 
horror  when  I  heard  him  tell  Mrs.  Whitaker  he  was 
going  to  renew  his  acquaintance  with  the  Colonel. 
What  are  we  to  do? 

BETTY.    He  must  not  see  Dad. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  If  they  meet,  we  are  lost ;  for  he 
is  just  the  tactless,  graceless  creature  to  blurt  the 
whole  story  out  about  James  and  the  kiss,  and  the 
Colonel  would  never  forgive  me.  (Crosses  R.  c.) 
Oh,  we  should  have  told  him  the  truth  a  month  ago. 
(Site) 

BETTY.  (By  MRS.  CONWAY  c.)  And  spoiled  my 
beautiful  joke  on  James !  Ah,  no,  it  is  better  to  let 
Dad  go  on  believing  that  I  had  Saunders  locked  up — 
and  discharged  him  the  day  after  the  ball. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Well,  you  may  count  upon  this 
Watts  person,  to  expose  the  deception  to  your  father 
the  moment  they  meet. 

BETTY.  I  can  easily  prevent  that.  (As  CORA 
enters  L.  2,  places  small  tea  tray  on  table)  You  go 
right  out  in  the  garden  and  oblige  Dad  to  show  you 
the  new  hot  houses,  and  I  will  meet  the  Judge  alone, 
tell  him  that  Dad  is  away  on  business  and  freeze 
him  out  in  ten  minutes. 

(CoRA  exits -Si.  2.) 

MRS.  CONWAY.  A  capital  idea — (Going  up  R. 
urged  by  BETTY)  and  after  that  I  implore  you  to 
discharge  this  Osborne. 

BETTY.  Not  until  I  discover  his  identity — no, 
no.  (Goes  down  L.  c.,  MRS.  CONWAY  following) 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  41 

Every  day  brings  fresh  complications.  Cora  is 
frantically  in  love  with  him.  Pierre  absurdly 
jealous,  and  I  think  of  new  ways  to  torment  him 
every  minute.  And,  oh,  Edith,  if  he  is  the  man  I 
suspect,  he  is  not  only  a  gentleman,  but  a  hero — 
if  he  is  not — well,  I've  had  rare  sport. 

MRS.  CON  WAY.  And  made  a  complete  idiot  of 
yourself  incidentally.  But  I  must  find  the  Colonel. 
(Goes  up  R.  3) 

BETTY.  Don't  return  until  I  send  for  you.  Oh — 
(Breaks  off  as  COLONEL  ANNESLEY  enters  R.  3  meet- 
ing MRS.  CON  WAY) 

CORA.  (Entering,  presents  card  to  ANNESLEY) 
Judge  Watts. 

BETTY  and  MRS.  CON  WAY.  Oh !  (Exchange  dis- 
mayed glances,  MRS.  CON  WAY  goes  L.  c.  to  BETTY) 

ANNESLEY.  (Reading  card)  The  Hon.  Henry  J. 
Watts — why,  it  is  my  old  friend — the  little  judge 
who  helped  you  out  of  your  scrape  with  Saunders, 
Betty.  (Perceiving  dismay  of  ladies)  Well,  what 
is  wrong? 

MRS.  CONWAY.  I  was  astounded  to  find  you  know 
the  Judge  of  a  Police  Court. 

ANNESLEY.  Show  him  in  here,  Cora.  (CORA 
exits)  I  know  several  good  fellows  who  have  been 
prisoners  in  a  Police  Court,  so  why  not  a  Judge? 

CORA.  (Re-entering,  announces)  Judge  Watts, 
sir. 

ANNESLEY.  (As  WATTS  enters,  greeting  him 
cordially)  Delighted  to  see  you  again,  Judge. 
Quite  a  change  since  thirty  years  ago. 

WATTS.  Time  has  dealt  kindly  with  you,  Colonel ; 
very  kindly. 

ANNESLEY.  (Presenting  him  to  BETTY,  who 
meanwhile  has  moved  up  c.)  You  have  met  my 
daughter 

WATTS.  (Shaking  hands  with  MRS.  CONWAY, 
down  L.)  Ah!  Yes,  yes — I  had  the  pleasure  of 
getting  her  under  my  jurisdiction  last  month. 


42  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

ANNESLEY.  Judge — this  is  my  daughter. 
(Amused,  presenting  BETTY,  now  at  his  L.  again) 

WATTS.  Eh?  Oh!  How  very  stupid  of  me. 
(Putting  on  his  eyeglasses)  I  am  as  blind  as  a  bat 
without  my  glasses.  Ah,  yes,  I  see — you  created 
sad  havoc  among  my  men,  Miss  Annesley. 

BETTY.  Really?  Permit  me  to  introduce  Mrs. 
Conway — Judge  Watts. 

WATTS.  Ah,  delighted,  I'm  sure.  (Again  to 
BETTY)  Yes,  I  assure  you — they  cut  your  picture 
from  the  society  column  of  some  newspaper  and  say 
their  prayers  to  it. 

BETTY.  I  hoped  they  had  forgotten  all  about  me. 
(Above  table)  Pray,  be  seated.  (Bus.  with  tea. 
Hands  cup  and  biscuits  to  MRS.  CONWAY) 

WATTS.  (Sitting  L.  c.  in  armchair.  MRS.  CON- 
WAY  L.  of  him  on  settee)  Your  case  was  what  we 
call  a  record  breaker,  my  dear  young  lady — (To 
ANNESLEY)  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  it,  Colonel 
• — had  a  highly  humorous  side. 

ANNESLEY.  I  suspected  it.  I  have  always  felt 
that  Betty  and  Mrs.  Conway  suppressed  a  rather  ex- 
citing affair. 

BETTY.  (Giving  WATTS  a  cup  of  tea)  Not  at 
all — far  from  it. 

ANNESLEY.  Well,  I  noticed  that  I  heard  nothing 
until  Saunders  was  discharged  and  out  of  the 
way 

BETTY.  Well,  dear,  the  stables  are  in  my  care — 
and  I  don't  require  any  help  to  manage  the  men. 

WATTS.  You  may  rest  easy  on  that  score,  Colonel. 
She  faced  the  music  like  a  veteran,  made  her  charge 
gallantly ;  looking  the  young  ruffian  in  the  eye,  and 
then — he — ha — after  it  was  all  over,  weakened  and 
paid 

BETTY.  (Sticking  sugar  bowl  under  his  nose  sud- 
denly) Do  you  take  sugar,  Judge? 

WATTS.  Eh?  Yes,  thank  you — and  as  I  said, 
paid 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  43 

MRS.  CONWAY.  (Presenting  biscuit  on  other  side) 
Try  these,  Judge,  I  made  them  myself 

WATTS.    As  I  was  saying — Thank  you  p-paid. 

BETTY.  (Dropping  lump  after  lump  of  sugar  in 
his  cup)  You  like  plenty  of  sugar,  of  course. 

WATTS.     (Gasping)    Why 

BETTY.    All  intellectual  men  like  sugar. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  And  football.  You  play,  of 
course,  Judge  ? 

WATTS.  I?  I  play  football?  My  dear,  madam, 
I  class  it  as  manslaughter  in  the  second  degree. 

BETTY.  Oh!  All  lawyers  ought  to  like  the  pig- 
skin— (Rattling  on)  they  are  called  gentlemen  of 
the  pigskin,  aren't  they? 

MRS.  CONWAY.    No,  wig  skin 

WATTS.     Possibly  you  mean — sheepskin. 

BETTY.    I  really  don't  see  much  difference. 

ANNESLEY.  (Rising  R.  c.  Reproving  BETTY) 
Judge  Watts  does  not  understand  your  nonsense. 
(To  WATTS)  Suppose  we  stroll  about  the  grounds, 
and  look  the  stables  over,  my  dear  Watts. 

WATTS.  By  all  means,  and  by  the  bye — I  want 
your  advice  about  my  pet  mare 

ANNESLEY.  We  will  consult  my  groom — who 
knows  everything  about  horses. 

WATTS.  (Joining  ANNESLEY  up  R.  c.)  I  really 
envy  you,  Colonel.  Ah.  What  a  charming,  old- 
fashioned  garden.  (They  exit  R.  3) 

MRS.  CONWAY.    (Aghast)    He  will  meet — James  ? 

BETTY.  Oh,  no,  he  won't — (Rings  bell)  I've 
thought  of  a  plan.  (As  CORA  enters  R.  2)  Run  to 
the  stables,  Cora ;  tell  James  to  come  up  to  the  house, 
and  remain  here  until  Judge  Watts  goes  to  Washing- 
ton. Understand  ? 

CORA.    Yes,  Miss.     (Exits  R.  2) 

BETTY.  (Calling  after  her)  Don't  do  anything 
stupid.  (To  MRS.  CONWAY)  Now,  my  dear,  we 
must  join  those  dear  old  gentlemen,  and  prevent 
further  confidence.  Come 


44  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  I  couldn't,  dear.  The  Colonel 
must  think  we  are  out  of  our  senses. 

BETTY.  I  shall  be,  if  Dad  hears  the  truth  about 
James.  Come. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Your  father  gave  us  a  vigorous 
hint  to  stay  here. 

BETTY.  Nothing  short  of  chloroform  would  make 
me  take  a  hint  to-day;  so  come.  Oh!  I  have  it, 
Edith.  You  can  engage  Judge  Watts  in  a  terrific 
flirtation,  and  carry  him  back  to  town  in  your  motor 
car. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  {Horrified)  Flirt  with  a  Police 
Court  Judge! 

BETTY.  Never  mind  that.  We  must  do  some- 
thing quick,  or  Dad  will  keep  him  to  dinner. 
(ANNESLEY  heard  outside)  Oh !  They  are  coming 
back.  Well,  we  will  detain  them  here. 

(ANNESLEY  re-enters  with  WATTS.     Seems  much 
irritated.) 

ANNESLEY.  I'll  ring  for  Cora.  Be  seated,  my 
dear,  Watts.  I  will  send  for  the  fellow. 

WATTS.  (Down  R.  c.)  My  question  is  of  no 
consequence,  and  your  man  is  doubtless  busy. 

ANNESLEY.  (As  CORA  enters)  Go  out  into  the 
garden,  Cora,  and  tell  the  groom  to  come  here  at 
once — at  once. 

BETTY.  He  has  just  gone  to  town  on  an  errand 
for  me,  Dad. 

ANNESLEY.  He  has  not  started  yet.  (To  CORA) 
Do  as  I  bade  you.  (As  CORA  exits)  As  the  Judge 
and  I  went  out  to  the  stables,  he  was  coming  up 
through  the  orchard.  I  called  to  him  and  he  dodged 
behind  a  tree. 

BETTY.     He  probably  did  not  hear  you,  dear. 

ANNESLEY.  Oh,  but  he  did.  He  turned  his  head, 
looked  at  us,  then  as  I  called  again,  deliberately  stole 
back  to  the  stables,  through  the  trees,  ignoring  me, 
by  gad. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  45 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Pardon  me  for  interrupting  you, 
Colonel ;  but  I  am  simply  dying  to  ask  Judge  Watts 
a  question — (Coquettishly) — if  he  will  waste  a 
moment  on  me. 

WATTS.  (Going  to  her  L.)  I  should  not  consider 
any  amount  of  time  wasted  in  your  society,  my  dear, 
madame.  (Sitting  by  her,  again  in  armchair}  So 
let  us  have  the  question. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Tell  me,  then,  what  was  the  most 
interesting  case  that  ever  came  up  in  your  court? 

ANNESLEY.  Yes,  give  us  some  of  the  comedies  of 
your  experience. 

WATTS.  Well,  frankly,  the  most  amusing  case  I 
ever  remember,  was  that  of  Miss  Elizabeth  An- 
nesley,  and 

BETTY.    But  we  know  all  about  that. 

ANNESLEY.  Don't  interrupt,  Betty.  Go  on, 
Judge,  tell  me  the  joke.  These  girls  never  would 
confess  exactly  what  Saunders  did. 

WATTS.  Saunders  was  not  the  name  of  the 
groom.  It  was — dear — dear — it  has  slipped  my 
memory.  But  it  was  not  Saunders. 

ANNESLEY.    Henry  Saunders  is  the  name. 

WATTS.  Then  he  had  an  alias,  for  I  distinctly 
remember — I  really  cannot  recall  what  he  called  him- 
self. Can't  one  of  you  ladies  help  me  out? 

MRS.  CONWAY.  I  think  his  name  was — Peter — 
er — Smith. 

ANNESLEY.  Used  an  alias,  did  he?  Then  the 
scrape  must  have  been  serious. 

B^TTY.  It  does  not  matter.  He  went  to  New 
York. 

WATTS.  Then  he  has  returned;  for  I  saw  him 
yesterday  on  Vermont  Avenue  driving  a  smart  little 
Victoria. 

BETTY.    Surely  you  are  mistaken. 

WATTS.  My  dear  young  lady,  the  young  rascal 
impressed  me  as  a  dashing  confidence  man,  dis- 
guised as  a^  groom. 


46  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

ANNESLEY.  He  always  struck  me  as  a  common- 
place, pug-nosed  old  fellow — I  never  liked  him. 
He  had  a  nasty  squint. 

WATTS.    My  man  had  no  squint. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Aren't  you  a  trifle  near-sighted, 
Judge  ? 

ANNESLEY.  He  would  have  to  be  blind  not  to  see 
Saunders'  squint. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Well,  do  let  us  forget  the  wretch. 
Let  us  forget  everything  except  that  the  experience 
has  given  us  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Judge  Watts. 
Why  do  you  not  go  more  into  society,  Judge — one 
never  meets  any  really  interesting  men  now.  (Looks 
at  him  coquettishly) 

WATTS.  (Flattered)  I  leave  that  to  the  young 
gallants. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  So  unkind  of  you.  May  I  see 
your  hand,  Judge?  (As  he  gives  it  to  her)  I  am 
studying  palmistry.  Did  you  ever  look  into  it? 

WATTS.    I  should  like  to.     (Edges  nearer  to  her) 

CORA.  (Entering  breathlessly,  R.  2)  Colonel,  he 
has  gone  to  Washington. 

ANNESLEY.    Nonsense.    I  saw  him  in  the  garden. 

CORA.    Yes,  sir.    That  is  what  he  says,  sir. 

ANNESLEY.     (Rising)    What  is  what  he  says? 

CORA.  (Frightened)  That  he  has  gone  to  Wash- 
ington. 

ANNESLEY.  (Angry)  He  sent  that  message  to 
me? 

CORA.    Yes,  sir. 

BETTY.    You  don't  mean  that,  Cora. 

CORA.    No,  miss. 

BETTY.    He  said  that  he  was  going,  not  gone. 

CORA.  No,  miss — says  I — the  Colonel  says  that 
you  are  to  come  up  to  the  house — at  once — at  once. 
Says  he,  tell  him  I  am  gone  to  Washington. 

ANNESLEY.    Where  is  he  now? 

CORA.     (Bewildered)     Gone  to  Washington. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  47 

ANNESLEY.  Don't  say  that  fool  thing  again. 
Where  did  you  leave  the  groom? 

CORA.     I  didn't  leave  him,  sir.    He  went  away. 

ANNESLEY.  Oh,  good  God.  Pardon  me  a 
moment,  Watts.  I  am  determined  that  you  shall  see 
James.  (Exits  R.  c.  CORA  follows  him  up  and  off 

«•  3) 

WATTS.  (Triumphantly)  James  was  the  first 
name  of  your  groom's  alias.  I  knew  it  was  not 
Peter.  Now,  I'll  have  the  other  in  a  moment, 

BETTY.  (Rushing  to  him — R.  of  him.  MRS. 
CON  WAY  simultaneously  drops  down  L.  of  him) 
Please  don't.  Oh,  Judge  Watts,  don't  you  see  we 
are  trying  to  keep  this  story  from  Dad? 

WATTS.    You  are? 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Do  you  suppose  Betty  dared  to 
tell  the  Colonel  about  the  kiss  ? 

WATTS.    Doesn't  he  know? 

BETTY.  Of  course  not — you  know  what  a  darling 
old  fire-eater  he  is.  He  would  have  horsewhipped 
or  killed  the  wretch.  I  dared  not  tell  him. 

WATTS.    What  a  blundering  old  idiot  I  have  been. 

BETTY.  Oh,  you  were  not  to  blame.  But  you 
will  be  discreet  now? 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Oh,  we  can  depend  upon  the 
Judge. 

BETTY.  Oh,  surely.  Remember  how  tactful  he 
was  in  Court.  We  have  so  often  spoken  of  your 
cleverness. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  I  shall  never  forget  the  dexterous 
way  in  which  you  closed  the  case,  and  marched  the 
prisoner  out. 

WATTS.     (Flattered)     It  was  rather  neat,  eh? 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Marvelous.  (Glancing  at  clock) 
But  I  must  go.  Oh,  I  am  so  disappointed.  I 
counted  on  a  nice,  long  chat  with  you,  Judge. 

BETTY.  You  made  a  tremendous  impression  on 
Mrs.  Con  way,  Judge. 

WATTS.    I  wish  I  could  believe  that. 


48  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  It  is  very  naughty  of  Betty  to 
tell,  but  I  certainly  did  hope  to  meet  you  again. 
Suppose  I  take  you  back  to  Washington  with  me  in 
my  motor  car,  now,  by  way  of  beginning  the 
•acquaintance  ? 

WATTS.  Nothing  could  suit  me  better.  (Goes  to 
her  R.) 

MRS.  CONWAY.  But  we  must  hurry.  Good-bye, 
Betty. 

COLONEL  ANNESLEY.  (Entering)  What?  Are 
you  going  ?  I  hoped  to  have  you  stay  for  dinner. 

BETTY.  So  sorry  he  can't  stay,  But  Mrs.  Conway 
has  kindly  offered  to  take  him  back  to  Washington 
in  her  motor  car. 

WATTS.  Yes,  thank  you,  very  sorry,  but  I  can't 
stay.  Good-bye,  Colonel.  (Shakes  hands  with 
COLONEL  ANNESLEY,  and  crosses  L.  c.  to  BETTY) 
Good-afternoon.  (In  a  low  voice)  Set  your  mind 
at  rest,  my  dear  young  lady,  the  Colonel  shall  never 
know  the  story  from  me.  (Returns  to  MRS.  CON- 
WAY  R.  with  whom  ANNESLEY  has  shaken  hands) 

OMNES.  Good-bye,  good-afternoon.  Come  out 
again,  etc.  (Exit  WATTS  and  MRS.  CONWAY  R.  c. 
CORA  enters  R.  2,  and  removes  tea  things  L.  2) 

ANNESLEY.  A  fine  little  fellow.  We  must  have 
him  out  again.  James  upset  me  so,  I  cannot  get 
over  it.  You  must  speak  to  the  fellow,  Betty. 

BETTY.  I  surely  will,  but  we  must  not  be  too 
hard  on  him,  Dad — he  is  only  a  groom. 

ANNESLEY..  And  what  did  Cora  mean  by  bring- 
ing me  that  fool  message? 

BETTY.    She  was  bewildered 

(CoRA  re-enters  and  crosses  around  at' back  to  R. 
and  exits.) 

^  ANNESLEY.    (Bewildered,  watches  her  off)    The 

firl  simply  lied.     Oh,  well,  you  speak  to  her,  and 
'11  talk  to  James.     (Goes  up  R.  to  exit) 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  49 

BETTY.  Oh,  Dad,  I've — I've  finished  the  plans. 
Don't  you  wish  to  see  them? 

ANNESLEY.     (Stopping  by  window)    The  plans? 

BETTY.  Yes.  Let  me  show  them  to  you.  I  have 
the  last  one  here.  (Brings  down  big  red  book  from 
table  up  L.  c.  by  stairs.  ANNESLEY  seats  himself  at 
table  R.  c.)  There,  see  that — Look  at  that  line — 
etc. 

ANNESLEY.  Number  of  men — yes,  yes,  very 
good, 

BETTY.    Is  it  all  right? 

ANNESLEY.  Capital,  but  you  shouldn't  leave 
leave  these  drawings  where  anyone  can  see  them. 

BETTY.  The  others  are  in  your  cabinet,  and  no 
one  would  dream  that  this  old  Veterinary's  manual 
conceals  fortification  plans  that  will  make  the  name 
of  Annesley  famous. 

ANNESLEY.     Famous !    Nonsense. 

BETTY.  You  said  that  if  the  Government  accepted 
your  inventions  for  the  new  fortifications  you  would 
be  rich  and  famous 

ANNESLEY.  All  that  is  for  the  future.  Mean- 
time understand,  that  no  one  must  get  the  slightest 
hint  of  the  work  you  are  doing  for  me.  You  must 
guard  these  plans  as  if  they  were  a  state  secret. 

BETTY  Trust  me.  Oh !  It  makes  me  so  proud 
to  feel  that  I  am  helping  in  this  crowning  achieve- 
ment of  your  noble  career 

ANNESLEY.     (Wincing)     Betty! 

CORA.     (Entering  R.)     Count  Karloff,  sir. 

ANNESLEY.    Show  him  in  here, 

BETTY.  (Turning  aside,  takes  vet's  manual, 
puts  it  on  table  L.  u  hastily  and  tries  to  exit)  Pro- 
voking ! 

(KARLOFF  enters  quickly,  greets  ANNESLEY.) 
KARLOFF.      Good-morning,    Colonel    Annesley! 


$o  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

(Then  up  L.  c.  to  BETTY)  Ah,  Mademoiselle,  I 
thought  you  were  at  the  Hunt  Club,  but  there  has 
been  an  accident. 

BETTY.  (Lightly)  Nothing  injured  but  my 
vanity,  Count. 

KARLOFF.  The  disarray  is  most  becoming,  I  as- 
sure you,  Mademoiselle. 

(ANNESLEY  replaces  papers  and  locks  desk.) 

BETTY.  Thank  you.  (Gathers  up  her  habit) 
If  you  will  excuse  me,  I  will  repair  the  damage. 

KARLOFF.  Certainly,  I  will  chat  with  the 
Colonel,  and  then,  may  I  not  hope  that  you  will 
honor  me  by  taking  a  spin  in  my  new  motor  car? 
I  brought  it  out  for  your  approval. 

BETTY.  (Gradually  moving  up  L.)  You  are 
very  good,  Count ;  but  my  schoolmate,  Nancy  Wor- 
burton,  is  coming  to  spend  the  afternoon. 

ANNESLEY.  (R.  of  table)  Put  her  off  by  tele- 
phone. 

BETTY.  (Apparently  dismayed)  Impossible, 
Dad.  She  has  just  returned  from  New  York,  and 
wired  to  make  the  engagement. 

KARLOFF.    To-morrow  then? 

BETTY.  To-morrow — (As  if  remembering)  I 
have  some  very  important  work  to  do  for  my 
father. 

KARLOFF.     Would  Wednesday  be  possible? 

BETTY.  (As  if  disappointed)  I've  not  one  free 
moment  this  week,  but  you  are  coming  out  to  the 
Hunt  Club  dinner  Saturday? 

KARLOFF.     I  have  the  honor. 

BETTY.  We  will  set  a  date  then.  Meantime,  I 
really  must  get  ready  for  Nancy.  (Up  steps) 
Au  revoir,  Count.  (Exits  L.  u.  E.) 

KARLOFF.  (Bowing)  Until  Saturday.  Made- 
moiselle. (Coming  down  to  ANNESLEY,  with  a 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  51 

smile)  Your  charming  daughter  is  in  her  most 
coquettish  mood. 

ANNESLEY.  (Crossing  up  R.,  offering  him  cigars 
which  he  gets  from  box  on  table  up  R.  )  Pay  no  at- 
tention to  her  whims,  Count,  she  is  spoiled. 

KARLOFF.  (Selecting  cigar)  I  adore  her 
caprice,  Colonel — a  non-resisting  woman  is  as  un- 
interesting as  a  stuffed  rabbit.  (Moves  to  mantel 
for  match)  But  you  look  depressed,  sir.  Not  ill, 
I  trust?  (Throughout  following  scene  both  men 
are  very  quiet  and  direct) 

ANNESLEY.  (Up  R.)  This  miserable  business 
about  the  fortification  plans  is  driving  me  frantic. 

KARLOFF.  (Replacing  match-box  with  strong 
movement)  You  cannot  get  them.  I  feared  that 

ANNESLEY.  (To  L.  of  table  c.)  It  is  not  that — 
I  have  the  set  almost  complete.  But  now  the 
moment  has  come  to  consummate  our  bargain — 
(With  a  burst  of  emotion)  I  cannot  do  it,  Karloff, 
I  cannot  betray  my  country's  confidence. 

KARLOFF.  (Crossing  to  ANNESLEY  and  giving 
him  his  cigar  to  get  a  light  from)  I  quite  appre- 
ciate your  feelings,  my  dear,  Colonel;  but  under 
the  existing  conditions  between  Russia  and  America 
the  plans  have  no  real  value. 

ANNESLEY.  (Returning  cigar)  Does  that 
justify  me  in  selling  them  to  Russia?  The  Presi- 
dent placed  me  at  the  head  of  the  Commission  ap- 
pointed to  perfect  for  our  coast  defence  the  very 
plans  that  I  agreed  to  sell  to  you.  (To  L.)  If  I  go 
on  I  am  a  traitor;  a  double  traitor.  (Crosses  L., 
and  drops  into  chair  before  fireplace) 

KARLOFF.  (Leaning  over  his  chair)  In  time  of 
war,  yes.  But  now  you  simply  receive  one  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars  for  a  set  of  useless  plans 
that  will  moulder  away  in  the  dusty  files  of  our 
War  Office.  Voila. 

ANNESLEY.     (Rising)     That  does  not  lessen  my 


$2  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

treachery.  When  I  made  the  bargain  with  you  at 
Monte  Carlo,  I  was  half  crazy.  I  had  lost  my 
entire  fortune,  and  Betty's  as  well,  at  those  cursed 
tables—  (Breaks  off)  I  was  desperate. 

KARLOFF.  Let  those  bad  memories  ^  rest,  Sir. 
You  had  to  choose  between  absolute  ruin  and  the 
money  -I  was  empowered  to  offer. 

ANNESLEY.  It  was  frantic  folly  that  set  me  to 
gambling  at  my  time  of  life. 

KARLOFF.  It  is  too  late  to  hark  back  now,  my 
dear,  Colonel.  What  is  done  is  done. 

ANNESLEY.  (Crosses  R.)  I  need  not  go  on,  and 
I  will  not.  No !  I  have  resolved  to  destroy  the  plans, 
(Crosses  R.  to  table  c.  taking  in  room  with  emotion) 
By  selling  this  house,  our  home,  I  can  return  the 
twenty  thousand  dollars  you  have  advanced  and  I 
will 

KARLOFF.  (Up  L.  c.)  Impossible.  (ANNESLEY 
turns  questioningly  below  table)  That  is  to  turn 
your  innocent  daughter  into  the  street.  Beggar  her 
to  screen  your  pride.  You  must  not  do  it.  (ANNES- 
LEY R.  of  c.  table  shakes  head  negatively.  KARLOFF 
comes  down  L.  of  table)  No!  Listen  to  me — My 
Czar  has  commanded  me  to  buy  these,  plans ;  if  I 
refuse,  or  fail,  my  estates  are  confiscated,  and  I 
am  banished. 

ANNESLEY.     But 

KARLOFF.  In  plain  English,  I  am  a  spy,  I, 
Sergius  Karloff,  a  spy!  I  loathe  the  thought — it 
has  become  doubly  distasteful  since  I  met  your 
daughter  and  realized  how  she  would  regard  our 
bargain.  But  what  can  I  do?  The  Czar  com- 
mands. Necessity  is  your  Czar,  sir;  grinding 
necessity. 

ANNESLEY.  (Grimly)  It  is  not  necessary  to  be* 
tray  my  country  to  pay  my  gambling  debts. 

KARLOFF.  (With  deep  emotion)  It  is  impera- 
tive that  you  do  not  compel  your  helpless  daughter 
to  pay  the  price  of  your  folly.  (ANNESLEY  stand* 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  53 

R.  of  table  overwhelmed.  KARLOFF  L.  of  table)  If 
I  am  harsh  you  must  forgive  me,  Sir.  I  speak  in 
the  interest  of  Miss  Annesley. 

ANNESLEY.  (After  short  pause  with  a  long 
drawn  sighing  breath)  You  are  right.  For 
Betty's  sake  I  must  go  on.  You  shall  have  the 
plans. 

KARLOFF,  (Taking  his  hand  warmly — ANNES- 
LEY simply  permits  it)  Bravely  spoken.  Now  to 
settle  this  painful  matter.  When  may  I  bring  you 
the  money? 

ANNESLEY.  You  are  coming  to  the  hunt  dinner 
Saturday  ? 

KARLOFF.    Yes ;  I  am  honored  by  an  invitation. 

ANNESLEY.  Remain  after  the  others,  then,  and 
we  will  close  the  affair. 

KARLOFF.  Good.  And  after  that  let  us  consign 
the  whole  thing  to  oblivion. 

ANNESLEY.    If  it  were  only  possible ! 

KARLOFF.  It  is,  I  assure  you.  (Crosses  R.)  Be- 
lieve me,  my  own  part  is  as  repulsive  as  yours,  but 
after  Saturday  I  shall,  as  the  American  say,  "  wipe 
it  off  the  slate."  (Exits) 

ANNESLEY.  (After  KARLOFF'S  exit,  going  up  c.) 
A  convenient  code. 

WORBURTON.  (Entering  up  R.)  You  sent  for 
me,  Colonel  Annesley? 

ANNESLEY.  Ah,  James!  I  wish  to  thank  you 
for  your  gallantry  in  saving  my  daughter's  life. 

WORBURTON.  I  did  nothing,  sir.  Miss  Annesley 
is  sheer  pluck,  and  practically  saved  herself. 

BETTY.  (Entering  L.  u.  E.  with  rose  and  roll  of 
bills  in  hand.  Coming  fonvard  L.  c.)  Don't  con- 
ceal the  truth,  James,  Miss  Annesley  simply  fell  in 
the  dirt  with  the  dash  and  spirit  of  a  sack  of  meal, 
and  you  know  it. 

WORBURTON.     I  don't  remember  that,  Miss. 

BETTY.  Then  you  were  more  confused  than  you 
aeemed.  Dad,  dear,  the  gardener  wants  to  see 


54  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

you  about  the  hot  houses.  He  says  my  idea  is  too 
expensive. 

ANNESLEY.  (Going  up  c.)  He  is  an  infernal 
old  nuisance. 

BETTY.  I  think  you'd  better  bully  him  a  little, 
Dad.  There's  no  use  in  spoiling  ,^n  ideal  plan  to 
save  a  few  hundred  dollars  and  I  have  set  my  heart 
on  having  my  own  way. 

ANNESLEY.  I'll  see  him  at  once.  (Exits  into 
garden  R.  3) 

( WORBURTON  starts  to  follow  ) 

BETTY.  (Taking  roll  of  bills  from  her  purse) 
One  moment,  James. 

WORBURTON.  (Turning  in  window  R.  u.)  What 
is  it? 

BETTY.     (Archly)    Did  I  hear  you  say  "  Miss?  " 

WORBURTON.  (Amused)  I  am  afraid  not,  Miss. 
I  hope  you'll  overlook  it,  Miss, 

BETTY.  Certainly.  (With  a  mock  sigh)  But 
it's  trying  to  have  to  remind  you  so  often,  James. 
There — (Hands  him  bills  across  table  R.  c.) 

WORBURTON.  (Staring  at  money)  What  is  this, 
Miss? 

BETTY.    Your  wages,  James. 

WORBURTON.  Oh,  yes,  I  have  been  here  a  month, 
haven't  I,  Miss? 

BETTY.  (Mischievously)  Just  thirty  days,  and 
I  am  exceedingly  pleased  with  you,  James. 

WORBURTON.  You  are  very  good  to  say  so—- 
Miss. 

BETTY.  (With  patronising  air — sits  L.  c.  in  big 
chair  by  fire)  Yes,  you  make  William  keep  the 
horses  and  stables  in  very  good  order,  and  the  er — 
immaculate  condition  of  your  collars,  and  your 
hands  is  most  gratifying. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  55 

WORBURTON.  (Furious)  You  are  very  kind  to 
notice  them,  Miss.  Is  that  all? 

BETTY.  Not  quite.  I  believe  Pierre  told  you 
that  I  give  a  small  dinner  to  a  few  members  of  the 
Hunt  Club  Saturday? 

WORBURTON.    Yes,  Miss. 

BETTY.  (Shading  her  face  and  rather  mali- 
ciously) As  the  butler  is  ill,  I  am  going  to  ask  you 
to  take  his  place. 

WORBURTON.  (Alarmed)  Out  of  the  question, 
Miss.  Really,  you'll  have  to  excuse  me,  I — I 'never 
saw  a  dinner  party  in  my  life. 

BETIY.  That  doesn't  make  any  difference. 
Pierre  will  coach  you.  (Grimaces  from  BETTY) 
It  is  very  easy,  you  have  only  to  pass  things  around, 
you  know. 

WORBURTON.  You  said  it  was  a  Hunt  dinner, 
Miss? 

BETTY.  Yes,  a  very  informal  little  affair.  Just 
a  few  of  my  Washington  friends. 

WORBURTON.  Washington!  (Breaks  off  dis- 
mayed, gasps) 

BETTY.    Why  do  you  gasp,  James? 

WORBURTON.  Embarrassment,  Miss.  The  mere 
thought  of  being  so  near  the — er — swells.  I'd  be 
sure  to  make  a  miss  of  it — mes — mess  of  it,  Miss, 
and  pour  soup  over  their  backs. 

BETTY.  I'll  not  listen,  no  really,  James,  I  cannot 
take  no  for  an  answer.  I  ask  this  as  a  personal 
favor.  (Rises)  Do  it  to  oblige  me. 

WORBURTON.  I'd  wash  the  poodle,  or  any  old 
thing  to  oblige  you,  Miss — but  I  must  say  that  it 
will  come  hard  for  a  man  used  to  serving  horses 
a  la  carte,  to  turn  about  and  wait  at  table  a  la  Russe, 

BETTY.  You  have  a  very  neat  French  accent, 
James. 

WORBURTON.  Pierre  doesn't  think  so,  Miss. 
He's  teaching  me. 

BETTY.    You  are  a  quick  study.     (With  a  slight 


56  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

laugh)  Ah!'  You  might  as  well  own  up,  James, 
you'll  never  convince  me  that  you  are  an  ordinary 
groom. 

WORBURTON.  I  don't  remember  trying  to  con- 
vince you  of  anything,  Miss.  You  took  me  without 
references  on  the  condition  that  I  broke  Pirate.  I 
never  understood  it  myself, — er — why  you  paid  the 
fine  or 

BETTY.  (Confused)  The  less  said  about  that 
disgraceful  episode,  the  better.  You  would  do  well 
to  forget  it. 

WORBURTON.  Quite  so,  Miss,  but  there  are  some 
things  a  man  cannot  forget,  not  even  to  oblige  you. 
Miss.  (Over  her  L.  c.  looking  affectionately  at 
her) 

BETTY.  (Severely,  turning,  meets  his  eyes) 
Don't  look  at  me  that  way,  James.  (Trying  to 
suppress  smile)  It — it  is  not  at  all  respectful. 
(Crosses  in  front  of  table  R.  c.,  drops  rose  at  his 
feet  as  if  by  accident,  then  up  to  window) 

WORBURTON.  (A  touch  of  joking  the  situation 
behind  her  back)  Very  sorry,  Miss — no  offence. 
The  copy-book  says :  "  A  cat  might  look  at  a  king. 
(He  makes  a  move  to  get  rose.  She  turns,  he  re- 
sumes his  servant's  attitude) 

BETTY.  Never  answer  back,  James,  and  recollect 
that  I  gave  you  this  chance  to  redeem  yourself  in 
the  pure  spirit  of  unadulterated  charity. 

WORBURTON.  For  which  I'm  humbly  grateful, 
Miss. 

BETTY.  Then  try  to  remember,  James,  that  you 
are  only  a  groom.  (Exits  into  garden  R.  3) 

WORBURTON.  (Looking  after  her  with  cheerful 
grin)  The  pure  spirit  of  unadulterated  charity. 
That  was  a  beautiful  bluff.  (Snatching  up  rose, 
kisses  it)  Bless  her  for  a  dear  little  humbug!  I 
wonder  how  much  she  guesses — she  can't  know, 
but  certainly  she  guesses  a  good  bit,  or  she  wouldn't 
take  it  out  of  me  in  such  shape.  Only  the  groom. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  57 

(Kisses  rose,  puts  it  in  pocket)  Only  the  bride- 
groom perhaps 

PIERRE.  (Rushing  in  excitedly  L.  2  E.)  A  Moil 
To  the  rescue!  Ze  villain  stove-pipe  haf  collapse! 

WORBURTON.  Go  to  the — (BETTY  looks  in  win- 
dow to  see  what  the  excitement  is  about)  Plum- 
ber! 

PIERRE.  Zere  ees  no  plumbaire — Vite!  Ze  oven 
cool  before  my  eye!  Ze  pies  are  sinking.  (Enter 
BETTY  from  window)  Quick,  Zhames,  you  hold, 
I  poosh. 

WORBURTON.  Oh !  I  can't  fuss  with  stove-pipes, 
my  man.  I'm  only  the  groom. 

BETTY.     To  oblige  me,  James? 

WORBURTON.  Eh!  (Resignedly)  Oh,  cer- 
tainly, certainly;  anything  to  oblige  you,  er  Miss. 

PIERRE.  Hurry !  Ze  pies  aire  ruin !  (Runs  out 
L.  2  E.) 

BETTY.  (As  WORBURTON  starts  to  follow  L. 
sulkily)  Don't  look  so  sulky,  James;  we  expect 
everybody  to  be  accomodating  in  the  country. 

W'oRBURTON.  So  I  see,  Miss ;  but  there  are  one 
or  two  odd  jobs  you've  overlooked.  The  cows 
need  a  shampoo,  and  the  pig  needs  a  bath,  and  if  I 
can  be  of  service,  command  me — Miss.  (Bows, 
exits  L.  2  E.) 

BETTY.  (Leans  over  chair  R.  of  tabel  R.  c.,  looks 
at  floor)  He  took  the  rose.  I  know  he  would. 
Oh,  but  it's  delightful.  A  real  romance — I'd  be 
perfectly  happy  if  I  could  only  be  sure  that  he  is 
the  man  I  think  he  is. 

CORA.  (Entering  R.  2)  Miss  \Vorburton,  Mr. 
Henderson!  Miss.  (Ushers  in  NANCY  and 
HENDERSON;  retires  up  around  and  exits  L.  2) 

BETTY.  (Impulsively  greeting  them.  She  and 
NANCY  blend  their  speeches  in  a  gurgling  way) 
This  is  perfectly  lovely.  When  did  you  get  back 
from  New  York,  Nancy?  Mean  of  you  to  run 
away. 


58  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

NANCY.  (Putting  parasol  on  table  R.  c.  as  she 
enters)  I  got  back  this  morning.  (Greeting 
BETTY.  HENDERSON  bowing  and  extending  hand 
R.  c.  is  forgotten)  I  made  Charlie  bring  me 
straight  to  you.  I've  so  much  to  tell  you.  (To 
HENDERSON)  Charlie,  dear,  wouldn't  you  like  to 
go  out  and  smoke  in  the  garden? 

HENDERSON.  (With  mock  pathos)  I  was  only 
waiting  to  say  how  d'ye  do,  to  Miss  Annesley. 

BETTY.  (  Crossing  to  him.  Shaking  hands) 
Please  excuse  us.  I  haven't  seen  Nancy  since  I  re- 
turned from  Europe. 

HENDERSON.  I  know,  and  now,  Nancy  has  got 
to  see  all  your  Paris  things,  and  tell  you  how  she 
induced  me  to  becomes  engaged  to  her.  I'll  be 
back  in  a  couple  of  hours.  (Goes  up  to  window  R. 
u.  E.) 

BETTY.  (Back  to  NANCY,  c.)  You  have  him 
very  well  trained,  Nancy.  (They  gurgle  again) 
Take  off  your  hat,  dear.  Oh — (Admiring  NANCY'S 
hat) 

NANCY.  (Removing  hat)  I  got  it  in  New  York. 
It's  a  sample  from  Paris — the  most  wonderful  bar- 
gain, only  fifty  dollars. 

BETTY.    It's  a  dear. 

HENDERSON.  They're  off!  (Exits  into  garden 
R.  u.  E.  Girls  startled — then  laugh) 

NANCY.  Isn't  he  a  darling!  Oh,  Betty,  it's 
lovely,  being  engaged.  (As  they  sit,  chair  L.  by 
fireplace.  BETTY  sits  on  R.  arm  of  it)  But  what 
is  this  gossip  about  you  and  Count  Karloff  ? 

BETTY.    Just  gossip.     We  are  merely  friends. 

NANCY.  Somebody  ought  to  tell  him.  Mrs. 
John  says  he  is  simply  frantic  about  you. 

BETTY.     Absurd. 

NANCY.  I  hope  it  is,  because  I've  just  set  my 
heart  on  a  match  between  you  and  my  brother,  Bob. 

BETTY.    Bob  is  the  soldier,  isn't  he  ? 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  59 

NANCY.  He  was  until  a  nasty  Indian  shot  him  in 
the  leg  and  he  went  abroad. 

BETTY.    The  Indian? 

NANCY.  No,  Bob,  and  it  does  seem  like  Fate,  he 
came  back  on  the  steamer  with  you,  and  fell  in  love 
with  you  at  first  sight.  I  tried  to  tell  you  about  it 
at  the  ball,  and  we  were  interrupted.  Surely  you 
must  have  noticed  him  on  the  ship? 

BETTY.    What  does  he  look  like? 

NANCY.  He's  big  and  lovely,  and  weais  a 
pointed  beard.  Oh !  Women  go  wild  ovei  Bob. 
(Taking  off  gloves) 

BETTY.  I  can't  seem  to  remember — but  father 
was  so  deathly  ill,  I  didn't  notice  anyone. 

NANCY.  (Indignant.  Rising  and  going  below 
table  R.  c.)  Well,  if  all  my  family  had  been  having 
blind  staggers  in  the — er — Lee  skuppers,  I'd  have 
noticed  Bob.  (Puts  glove  on  table) 

BETTY.  I'm  truly  sorry,  darling;  but  it's  all  for 
the  best.  I  despise  beards.  There's  no  excuse  for 
them  unless  a  man  has  a  weak  mouth.  (Still  on 
arm  of  chair) 

NANCY.  Weak  mouth !  Bob !  Well,  you  wait 
until  you  see  Bob's  picture  without  a  beard.  I'll 
mail  you  one  to-night. 

BETTY.  (Rising  excitedly  to  NANCY  c.)  Can 
you?  Will  you?  Oh,  Nancy,  you  won't  forget. 

NANCY.  (Mischievously)  No,  but  why  all  this 
excitement?  Ah,  ha!  You  did  notice  Bob? 
You're  a  fibber. 

BETTY.  You're  another.  (They  embrace  and 
half  sit  on  c.  table)  If  Bob  really  was  so  im- 
pressed with  my  charms,  why  didn't  he  come  to 
the  ball  to  meet  me? 

NANCY.  I  didn't  tell  him  you  were  to  be  there. 
I  meant  to  punish  him  because  he  wouldn't  go  with 
us,  and  when  we  got  back  he  was  gone. 

BETTY.    Gone  ? 

NANCY.     Without  even  taking  his  hat,  and  the 


60  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

next  day,  we  got  a  letter  saying  he  had  rushed  off 
to  Canada,  to  join  a  chum  who  was  hunting  big 
game. 

BETTY.    Male  or  female? 

NANCY.  You  don't  believe  it?  I  didn't — I  don't 
and  I  won't.  I  don't  know  where  Bob  is,  but  I  feel 
sure  it's  not  Canada.  There's  a  mystery  and 
Charlie  knows  it. 

BETTY.    Oh !    Let's  call  him  in  and  pump  him ! 

NANCY.  (Scornfully)  Pump  a  newspaper 
man !  Why,  my  dear,  he  makes  his  living  by  telling 
lies,  and  of  course  stands  right  in  with  Bob;  that's 
the  man  of  it.  No  matter  how  mad  they  get,  they 
won't  tell  each  other's  secrets. 

BETTY.  Just  let  me  try  my  hand  on  him.  (Up 
and  around  table  to  window  R.  with  NANCY)  If  I 
am  to  marry  Bob,  I  ought  to  investigate.  Oh! 
Pirate  has  come  back !  Come  and  see  him. 

NAKCY.  Is  that  your  new  groom  leading  him? 
Charlie  says  you  have  the  handsomest  groom  in 
Washington. 

BETTY.  No,  that's  only  William,  but  I  want  you 
to  see  James.  (BETTY  and  NANCY  exeunt) 

PIERRE.  (Off  L.)  Thank  you,  James,  you  are 
very  kind.  I'll  make  you  a  pie. 

(WORBURTON  entering  L.  2.) 

WORBURTON.  That's  all  right  but  next  time  you 
get  the  stove-pipe  man.  (WORBURTON  enters  in 
shirt  sleeves,  his  collar  is  unbuttoned  on  one  side, 
his  hands  are  black  with  soot,  he  seems  hot  and 
exasperated)  I  wonder  what  the  next  stunt  will 
be? 

BETTY.  (Re-entering)  I  think  he  is  in  thi 
kitchen — ah!  Here  you  are,  James! 

WORBURTON.     Is  there  anything  else,  Miss? 

BETTY.  Yes.  One  moment.  (Turning  to  win- 
dow) Nancy !  Come  in,  dear ! 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  61 

WORBURTON.  (Glancing  off)  Nancy!  (In- 
stantly passes  sooty  hands  over  his  face,  so  that  as 
NANCY  re-enters  with  HENDERSON,  he  confronts 
the  party  with  a  black  mask  on) 

BETTY.  This — oh! — (Seeing  how  he  has  out- 
witted her — tries  to  restrain  herself  from  laughing, 
as  do  NANCY  and  HENDERSON) 

WORBURTON.  That'll  be  about  all,  I  suppose, 
Miss. 

BETTY.    (Up  c.)    Yes.    You  may  go. 

(WORBURTON  exits  L.  2  E.  ;  the  three  burst  out 
laughing.) 

NANCY.  (Sitting  R.  of  table  R.  c.  To  HENDER- 
SON) Is  that  your  idea  of  a  handsome  man? 

HENDERSON.  You  should  see  him  with  his  face 
clean.  He's  rather  a  remarkable  looking  chap  for 
a  groom,  don't  you  think,  Miss  Annesley? 

BETTY.     (L.  c.,  coolly)    In  what  respect? 

HENDERSON.  Seems  a  bit  above  his  station,  don't 
you  think  ? 

BETTY.  Oh,  dear,  no !  He  is  the  most  unaffected 
creature.  He  was  helping  the  Chef  with  a  stove- 
pipe when  you  came,  and  he  actually  offered  to 
wash  the  pig. 

HENDERSON.    I  hope  you  accepted  the  offer. 

BETTY.     (Mischievously)     Would  you? 

HENDERSON.  (Crosses  c.)  I'll  give  you  an 
opera  party  if  you  will. 

NANCY.  Bother  the  man.  (HENDERSON  up  c. 
and  R.)  I  want  to  hear  you  play  the  new  violin, 
Betty.  I'll  accompany  you.  (Goes  up  L.) 

BETTY.  I'll  consider  your  offer,  Mr.  Henderson. 
It's  tempting,  but — I  don't  want  to  lose  James. 
(Exits  L.  u.  E.  with  NANCY) 

HENDERSON.  (Looking  after  them)  Hum! 
There  seems  to  be  two  Jokers  in  this  pack.  (A 


62  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

sentimental   air   is   softly    played    on    violin    off) 
Now's  my  chance  for  a  word  with  Bob. 

CORA.  (Entering  L.  2  E.  with  glass  on  tray)  Is 
the  julep  for  you,  sir? 

HENDERSON.  Decidedly.  (Giving  her  a  tip) 
Where  is  Colonel  Annesley? 

CORA.    The  Colonel  has  gone  to  Washington,  Sir. 

HENDERSON.  (Scribbling  a  line  on  page  of  note- 
book) Good.  Then  I  want  you  to  give  this  to 
James  Osborne,  the  groom.  I  want  his  advice 
about  my  mare.  (Giving  her  note)  Clever  fellow, 
James,  eh?  Good-looking  chap,  eh? 

CORA.  (Enthusiastically)  Oh,  yes,  sir!  And 
you  ought  to  see  him  ride  that  awful  Pirate.  Made 
him  take  a  five  bar  fence  and  never  touched,  sir. 
He's  a  reg'lar  center — centaur — centerpide  when  it 
comes  to  horses.  (Exits  L.  2) 

HENDERSON.  (Laughing)  A  "  reg'lar  center- 
pide! Jove!  He'll  need  a  thousand  legs  when  the 
fair  Betty  runs  him  to  earth!  Does  she  suspect 
him?  I  wonder — (Beckons  off  L.  2.  WORBURTON 
appears.  HENDERSON  seizes  his  arm,  draws  him 
in)  It  is  perfectly  safe.  You  can  bolt  when  the 
music  stops. 

WORBURTON.  Well,  you  said  you  had  something 
to  tell  me.  (Shows  note.  Throughout  scene  BOB 
is  slightly  nervous  of  being  overheard) 

HENDERSON.  Merely,  that  in  my  opinion,  Betty 
Annesley  is  on  to  you. 

WORBURTON.     She  can't  know  my  name. 

HENDERSON.  She  is  on  the  hot  scent  after  your 
picture  without  a  beard,  and  Nancy  is  going  to  mail 
it  to  her. 

WORBURTON.  The  deuce!  I  never  thought  of 
that  confounded  picture! 

HENDERSON.  (Coolly  drinking  julep  at  table  R. 
c.)  The  jig  is  up  when  she  gets  it. 

WORBURTON.    Look  here,  there's  only  one  which 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  63 

is  in  Mrs.  John's  album.  As  soon  as  you  get  back, 
you  will  take  it  out  and  hide  it. 

HENDERSON.  Not  I.  No!  I'm  only  too  jolly 
glad  that  you  will  be  obliged  to  return  to  common 
sense.  (Drinks) 

WORBURTON.  I'm  not  obliged.  I  won't  be. 
(Forces  him  to  put  julep  down)  You're  in  love, 
Charlie,  put  yourself  in  my  place. 

HENDERSON.  No — Couldn't.  She's  laughing  at 
you,  Bob,  she's  got  a  tearing  sense  of  humor,  and 
likes  to  have  her  vaudeville  in  the  house,  but  you'll 
never  get  her  to  take  you  seriously  after  this. 

WORBURTON.  I  don't  care  how  she  takes  me,  if 
she  only — takes  me. 

HENDERSON.    Do  you  want  to  bet  ? 

(Stops  piano.    Violin  alone — different  tune.    Plain* 
tive. ) 

WORBURTON.  Not  about  her.  No —  But  if  I  lose 
her  I'll  give  you  my  little  black  mare 

HENDERSON.  Thanks,  old  man,  and  if  you  win 
her,  I'll  give  you  my  entire  collection  of  postage 
stamps  which  I  value  next  to  Nancy. 

WORBURTON.  All  right,  but  you  must  suppress 
that  picture,  let  it  be  a  duel  of  wits  between  Betty 
and  me. 

HENDERSON.     That's  only  fair,  I'll  do  it. 

WORBURTON.  (Sits  L.  on  arm  of  chair  near  fire- 
place) Thanks,  old  man. 

HENDERSON.  (Joking)  What!  fellow!  sitting 
in  my  presence 

(WORBURTON   rises   with    comical   acquiescence — 
Groom's  salute,  etc.) 

WORBURTON.  Ah!  You  don't  know  what  this 
month  has  been  to  me — the  farce  has  grown  to 
romance,  and  the  joke  with  a  pretty  girl  has  turned 


64  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

into  serious  love  for  the  finest  creature  that  God 
ever  made 

HENDERSON.    Next  to  Nancy. 

WORBURTON.  Nancy  is  a  dear  girl,  but  Betty 
Annesley — Ah!  You  must  live  near  her  to  know 
her,  she  has  romance,  passion !  Patriotism,  poetry 
everything  that  is  great  and  noble  in  her  nature 
(Goes  up  R.  c.)  Night  after  night,  she  pours  oui 
her  soul  in  her  music,  while  I  lie  out  there  in  the 
moonlight  and  dream  and  dream  on!  (Heaven^ 
a  sentimental  sigh) 

HENDERSON.  My  word!  Is  this  Bob  Worbur- 
ton,  daredevil  of  his  regiment,  or  Claude  Melnotte, 
in  one  act?  (Crosses  to  mantel  with  exaggerated 
tragic  movement) 

WORBURTON.  Don't  you  guy,  old  man.  (Comes 
down  L.  c.)  For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  am  hard 
hit,  and  this  absurd  incognito  makes  the  romance 
perfect.  An  army  man  with  money  of  his  own  does 
not  see  the  nicest  side  of  girls. 

HENDERSON.    Poor  victim  to  your  own  charms. 

WORBURTON.  I  never  flattered  myself  before, 
that  I  was  anything  but  a  tag  on  my  income.  But 
here's  a  girl  that  doesn't  care  a  rap  for  anything 
but  the  man.  Don't  you  see  the  fascination  of  it? 

HENDERSON.     (Seriously)    If  she  does  care,  yes. 

WORBURTON.  If  she  is  not  interested,  why  does 
she  permit  me  to  stay  here? 

HENDERSON.  (With  sympathetic  manner)  All 
right,  my  boy ;  I'm  in  love  myself.  (Shakes  hands) 
I'll  give  you  a  hand  up. 

WORBURTON.  (To  c.)  And  you'll  manage  to 
get  rid  of  that  confounded  picture? 

HENDERSON.  Yes  and  more.  (Comes  c.)  I've 
just  thought  of  a  compact  little  lie  that  will  make 
Miss  Annesley  positive  that  you  cannot  be  Bob 
Worburton. 

WORBURTON.  (Shaking  hands)  I  knew  you 
would  root  for  me  if  I  could  only  arouse  your  pro- 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  '65 

fessidnal  enthusiasm  for  a  good  lie.  Another 
point.  Nancy  must  not  come  out  to  this  Hunt  din- 
ner Saturday,  (stop  music) 

HENDERSON.  She  is  booked  for  a  musicale. 
Leave  it  to  me — I'll  keep  the  girls  apart — Hist! 
The  music's  stopped. 

(WORBURTON  exits  through  window  stumbling 
over  table  as  BETTY  enters  quickly  L.  u.  E. 
pauses,  looking  around  with  slightly  disap- 
pointed air.) 

BETTY.    Oh !    I  thought  I  heard  voices. 

HENDERSON.  I  took  the  liberty  of  calling  your 
groom  in  to  get  a  remedy  for  "  sand  cracks." 

BETTY.  (Joining  him  eagerly  L.  of  table  R.  c.) 
What  did  you  think  of  James? 

HENDERSON.  (R.  of  table  R.  c.)  Frankly,  he 
struck  me  as  a  bally  idiot — I  hope  you  had  a  good 
reference  with  him,  he  has  a  nervous,  furtive  sort 
of  manner  that  I  don't  quite  like. 

BETTY.  (With  disbelieving  air)  Really?  Er — 
by  the  bye — when  do  you  expect  Lieutenant  Wor- 
burton  back  from  Canada? 

HENDERSON.     (Promptly)     Next  week! 

BETTY.    Next  week? 

HENDERSON.  (Below  table  leaning^  on  it)  Yes, 
I'll  rush  him  right  out.  He  is  not  quite  the  Adonis 
Nancy  describes,  but — aside  from  his  hair — he  is 
very  much  to  the  good. 

BETTY.    What  is  the  matter  with  his  hair? 

HENDERSON.  (Blandly)  Nothing,  if  you  like 
red. 

BETTY.  (Dismayed,  then  to  HENDERSON  R.  of 
table)  It  is  not  red ! 

HENDERSON.  Confidently,  fiery  is  the  word. 
Nancy  is  horribly  sensitive  about  it,  she  calls  it 
auburn. 

BETTY.    But  she  said  all  women  admired  him. 


66  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

HENDERSON.  They  do.  (Crosses  R.)  Wait  until 
you  see  his  picture.  He  has  a  pure  Grecian  pn 

BETTY.     (Following  him  R.)     But  red  hair! 

HENDERSON.  (Pointing  to  Nancy  re-entering 
with  two  photos  L.  u.  E.)  Ssh ! 

NANCY.  (Coming  down  c.)  I've  taken  these 
two,  Betty,  and  you  shall  have  Bob's  picture  in  ex- 
change. 

BETTY.    Thank  you  dear,  I  hardly < 

HENDERSON.  (Interrupting  hastily)  Pardon 
me.  It  is  past  five  o'clock  and  I  must  tea.  .Nancy 
away.  (Shakes  hands  with  BETTY  across  table ) 

NANCY.  Betty  wait  till  I  tell  you  about  Jwnmy 
Bayley,  and  that  awful  woman  in  the  chorus  1 

HENDERSON.  (Seising  NANCY'S  arm)  Remem- 
ber, we  dine  at  the  French  Embassy,  my  dear. 

NANCY.  (Resisting)  Jimmy  took  her  out  in  his 
auto • 

HENDERSON.  Now,  Nancy!  Good-bye!  Miss 
Annesley ! 

BETTY.    Good-bye ! 

NANCY.  And  she  was  feeling  very  gay  after  a 
champagne  dinner 

HENDERSON.  (Drawing  NANCY  to  -window  R.  3 
E.)  Nancy ! 

NANCY.  And  just  as  everybody  was  leaving  the 
White  House,  the  auto  flew  by  and  she — (Snatch- 
ing up  parasol  from  table  R.  c.)  I  must  have  my 
parasol!  Bob  brought  it  from  Pans 

HENDERSON.  (Seizing  other  end  of  parasol) 
We'll  have  to  run.  (Starts  back  to  window,  drag- 
ging NANCY  after  him) 

NANCY.  (Over  her  shoulder)  And  she  was 
standing  on  the  seat  waving  his  hat !  (Exits  laugh- 
ing with  HENDERSON  R.  3) 

BETTY.  (Laughing — calls  out)  Don't  forget 
the  picture.  (Impulsively,  coming  down  L.  c.)  Cir- 
cumstantial evidence  is  a  fool!  Bob  disappeared 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  fy 

the  night  of  the  Embassy  ball.  James  appeared. 
Bob  is  romantically  in  love  with  me,  so  is  James* 
Bob  loves  a  joker,  so  does  James — every  link  in  the 
chain  is  complete  to  prove  that  James  is  Bob,  and 
then  it  seems  that  Bob  has  red  hair,  and  James  is  not 
Bob — and  oh — (Ores  hastily  to  window,  calls 

*  JAMES,"  beckons  with  imperative  gesture  then 
comes  down  in  front  of  table  R.  c.  and  over  L.  c.) 
If  he  is  not  Bob,  who  is  he?    He  is  afraid  to  meet 
Washington  people— He— well !    I'll  see  if  I  can't 
aggravate  him  into  telling  me.    If  you  can  make  a 
man  mad  enough  he  tells  the  truth  sometimes.    (Sits 
by  fire  L.  c.,  drums  impatiently  with  her  fingers) 
He  ought  to  be  Bob.    Perhaps  he  is.    He  may  have 
dyed  his  hair.    Or  Charlie  Henderson  may  have  told 
a  fib.     (Rises)     Or— well— I'll  have  the  picture 
anyway.    (L.  of  table) 

WORBURTON.  (Entering  from  garden  R,  3) 
You  want  me,  Miss  ? 

BETTY.  (Frigidly)  Yes.  When  I  left  the  room 
just  now,  I  dropped  a  rose.  You— er — found  it? 

WORBURTON.     (Surprised)    I  did — yes! 

BETTY.    And  er — kept  it? 

WORBURTON.     (With  slight  hesitation)     Ye-es. 

BETTY.    Knowing  that  I  dropped  it  ? 

WORBURTON.  Certainly,  Miss,  I  didn't  think 
there  was  any  harm. 

BETTY.  I  am  sorry  to  be  so  continually  forced 
to  remind  you  of  your  position,  James,  but  you 
must  see  that  what  might  be  called  sentiment  in  a 
gentleman  is  the  height  of  impertinence  in  a  groom. 

WORBURTON.  I  might  have  kept  the  rose  for 
anything  but  a  sentimental  reason,  Miss. 

BETTY.     (With  sarcastic  smile)     For  instance? 

WORBURTON.  (R.  y.)  I  might  have  wished  to 
make  a  little  potpourri  for  the  carriage  house. 

•  BETTY.     (Walking  from  L.  c.  to  R.  u.  and  back) 
I  consider  that  downright  impudent. 


68  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

WORBURTON.  I  suppose  if  a  gentleman  had  said 
it,  you  would  regard  it  as  a  joke,  wouldn't  you, 
Miss? 

BETTY.  (L.  c.  rising)  Have  you  the  rose  with 
you? 

WORBURTON.     (Quietly  angry)     I  have,  Miss. 

BETTY.  (With  imperative  gesture)  Lay  it  on 
the  table. 

WORBURTON.  (With  angry  jerk,  takes  the  rose 
from  inner  pocket,  tosses  it  on  the  table)  There's 
the  rose. 

BETTY.  Thank  you.  Now  let  us  forget  this  un- 
pleasant little  scene,  James.  If  I  have  hurt  your 
feelings  I  am  sorry,  for  you  are  a  very  good  fel- 
low— when  you  keep  in  your  place. 

WORBURTON.  It  occurs  to  me,  Miss,  that  the 
place  is  above  the  capacities  of  any  fellow  short  of 
the  late  lamented  Job.  Consequently  I  have  the 
honor  to  resign  from  your  service.  (Makes  stiff 
military  bow  and  turns  on  his  heel  to  exit  R.  3) 

BETTY.  (With  motion}  James!  (Recovering 
as  he  turns)  You  move  like  a  soldier.  Were  you 
ever  in  the  army? 

WORBURTON.  I  leave  you  to  fill  the  blanks  in  my 
hideous  past  with  your  own  vivid  imagination,  Miss. 
If  you  will  kindly  keep  my  wages  to  repay  you  for 
that  confounded  fine,  we  will  call  it  square.  Good- 
day.  (Bows — starts  up  to  window) 

BETTY.  One  moment,  please.  (As  he  turns 
I  can't  let  you  go  like  this — not  on  the  day  you 
saved  my  life.  Think  it  over— try  another  week 
at  least. 

WORBURTON.  I'd  rather  fight  Indians,  thank  you. 
(Starts  to  window  again) 

BETTY.  James !  (As  he  turns,  she  smiles  at  him 
sweetly]  Count  twenty-five,  please.  I  insist. 
(Goes  to  door  L.  u.  E.)  Yes,  I  insist  that  you  count 
twenty-five.  I'll  leave  you  alone  for  five  minutes, 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  69 

and  when  I  come  back  I  am  quite  sure  that  you  will 
have  reconsidered.     (Exits  quickly) 

WORBURTON.  (Staring  after  her  angrily)  Come 
to  heel,  Fido,  sorry  I  had  to  kick  you,  but  I'll  pat 
your  head,  and  you'll  love  me  twice  as  much. 
(Thrusts  hands  into  his  pockets  doggedly,  saunters 
down)  No,  no,  my  lady,  I'm  not  your  dog.  (Tak- 
ing rose  from  table  R.  c.  glares  at  it)  A  very  neat 
little  trap.  Pah!  (Flings  it  into  waste  paper 
basket)  And  she  thinks  I  will  reconsider.  She 
doesn't  know  me!  And  she  never  will  know  me 
now.  I  wouldn't  marry  her — I  wouldn't  marry — 
(Breaks  off  with  sarcastic  smile)  What's  the  use 
of  lying  when  I'm  all  alone? 

(WILLIAM,   a  boy   of  about  eighteen  dressed  as 
stable  help  appears  in  window.) 

WILLIAM.  (Outside)  Mr.  Osborne.  Mr. 
Osborne!  (Coming  through  window)  Oh,  say, 
Mr.  Osborne,  Pirate  is  in  a  fearful  sweat  and  he's 
couching  his  head  off. 

WORBURTON.     (L.  c.)    Let  him  cough! 

WILLIAM.    Ain't  you  coming  up? 

WORBURTON.    No,  send  for  the  vet. 

WILLIAM.  There  ain't  any  vet  short  of  Wash- 
ington. Oh!  You  must  do  something,  Mr.  Os- 
borne. Get  the  Colonel's  book  and  come  along,  the 
poor  beast  is  suffering  fearful. 

WORBURTON.    Suffering     (Hesitates) 

WILLIAM.  Something  awful.  The  book  is  kept 
here — a  big  red  book.  There  it  is  on  the  table. 
(Pointing  L.  c.) 

WORBURTON.  All  right,  I'll  come.  (WILLIAM 
exits)  "A  big  red  book" — I  can't  let  the  poor 
brute  suffer — (Sees  book  on  small  table  up  L.  c. 
rushes  to  it,  catches  it  up,  taking  the  drawing  with 
it,  comes  down  reading  title  L.  c.)  "  The  Veteri- 
nary's"— Ah!  Now  then.  (Opens  book.  The 


JQ  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

drawing  flutters  to  the  floor,  he  picks  it  up,  tucks 
book  under  his  arm,  and  examines  sketch)  Some- 
thing of  hers — Hello!  (Sits  in  armchair  L. 
Stares  at  the  sketch,  utters  an  exclamation,  gives 
quick  glance  around  to  be  sure  that  he  is  alone,  re- 
sumes examination)  Fortifications — a  plan  of — 
By  Jove.  A  carefully  worked  out  plan  of  Fortress 
Monroe — Number  of  men,  number  of  guns,  lists  of 
ammunition.  WhaS  B  this  doing  in  this  house! 
It's  treason — and  it's  her  work.  Who  gave  her 
these  figures !  (Rises)  I'll  answer  for  her  loyalty 
with  my  life.  She  may  be  an  innocent  tool,  but 
she  cannot  understand  what  this  means.  Is  it  An- 
nesley?  (c.)  I  don't  know  how  to  believe  it — a 
man  with  his  record.  (Going  up  L.  c.  to  table) 
But  I  must  know.  I  am  a  soldier!  I  must  know 
before  I  leave  this  house.  (Puts  book  and  plan 
back  and  starts  for  window) 

BETTY.      (Re-entering  L.  u.   E.)     Well,  Jame? 
have  you  thought  it  over? 

^  WORBURTON.    Yes,  Miss  Annesley,  and  have  de- 
cided to  remain. 

BETTY.    I  knew  you  would  conquer  your  temper. 

WORBURTON.  It  is  not  a  question  of  temper.  Miss, 
but  of  duty,  pure  unadulterated — (Salutes)  Duty. 
(Exits  into  garden) 

BETTY.  (Looking  after  him  questioningly  and 
with  disappointment)  Duty!  (Down  c.  picks  up 
roll  of  bills  from  table  R.  c.  Her  eyes  rest  on  rose 
in  basket.  She  picks  it  up)  Duty !  *  ( Then  up  stage 
to  steps  L.  u.  E.  tucks  rose  in  bosom  of  her  gown) 
Oh,  Mister  Groom!  Why?  (Exits) 

(Enter  WORBURTON  R.  3,  through  window,  goes  to 
table,  and  picks  up  waste  paper  basket  expect- 
ing to  find  rose,  is  disappointed — thinks. 
Realizes  that  BETTY  has  taken  it — and  is 
pleased. ) 

CURTAIN.  < 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  71. 


ACT  III. 

ON  TABLE  R.   C. — 

Cleared  of  2nd  act  props.  Small  alcohol  cigar 
lighter.  (Practical)  Matches.  Tray  with  extra 
tray  under  it.  On  tray  6  knives,  6  forks,  6  plates, 
6  wine  glasses,  I  extra  glass.  (To  break)  Large 
dish.  (To  break)  With  tongue.  (Real)  Carv- 
ing knive,  "fork,  and  steel. 

See  that  pistols  are  on  wall  and  matches  on 
mantel,  telephone  on  wall  R.  of  window. 

ON  TABLE  UP  L. — 

Same  as  ACT  II  except  that  cigar  box  is  on  book- 
case up  stage  and  vase  is  rilled  with  long  stemmed 
red  roses.  See  that  cigar  tray  and  bell  are  on 
table.  Large  long  stemmed  roses  in  large  vase 
on  bookcase  (A)  also  in  vase  on  desk. 

ON  TABLE  UP  R. — 

Handsome  lamp  electric,  practical.    Ash  tray. 
SIDE  PROPS  L. — 

BETTY  ROSE.  COL.  ANNESLEY — key  of  desk. 
COUNT  KARLOFF — Wallet  containing  large  roll 
bills  and  document.  Maid  of  L.  I  tray  with  mail, 
including  baby's  photo,  wrapped,  tied,  etc.  WOR- 
BURTON:  Off  L.  I  chafing-dish  containing  hot 
water  and  alcohol  lamp  underneath.  4  cigars  in 


72  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

box.    Tray  with  dry  mustard  and  bottle  Worces- 
tershire Sauce.    Tray  with  bowl,  punch,  and  ladle. 

SCENE  : — Same  as  ACT  II. 

"  The  Snuggery  "  of  COL.  ANNESLEY'S  house, 
two  days  later.  Late  in  the  evening.  French 
window  opening  on  to  a  porch  R.  3,  E.  R.,  and  L. 
upper  corners  of  room  out.  Small  desk  and 
seats  R.  corner.  A  large  and  elaborate  divan 
with  canopy  L.  upper  corner.  Fireplace  L.  3  E. 
with  wood  fire  burning.  Entrance  from  dining- 
room  L.  2  E.  Large  center  table  down  c.,  chair 
at  R.  Telephone  down  R.  of  window.  Music. 
Very  lively  air  on  violin  at  rise. 
DISCOVERED: — WORBURTON  wearing  handsome 
butler's  livery,  arranging  tray  of  plates  and 
silverware  on  table  c.,  with  sulky  air,  takes  up 
tray,  crosses  to  L.  i  as  HENDERSON  enters  L.  3 
E. 

HENDERSON.  (Mischievously)  Give  me  a  match 
before  you  go,  my  man. 

WORBURTON.    (At  table  R.  c.)    Go  to  the  dickens ! 

HENDERSON.  (Joining  him,  lights  cigarette) 
Don't  be  rude,  James.  I  was  about  to  throw  you  a 
bouquet  on  your  success  as  a  butler.  Col.  Raleigh 
was  just  asking  Miss  Annesley  where  she  got  you? 

WORBURTON.  Confound  Raleigh!  If  I  could 
have  dreamed  he  would  be  here,  I'd  have  seen  her 
in  the  Potomac  before  I  waited  at  table.  He  spent 
the  entire  dinner  trying  to  break  me  up. 

HENDERSON.  (Seated  in  armchair  L.)  I  noticed 
that.  Did  you  see  him  wink  at  you? 

WORBURTON.  Yes,  I'd  like  to  have  emptied  the 
ice-pail  on  his  head.  (Bus.  with  tray  and  dishes) 
I'm  not  under  his  command  now.  And  if  I  choose 
to  do  this  for  a  joke  it's  none  of  his  affairs. 

HENDERSON.  (Moving  L.)  Oh,  he  has  a  right 
to  laugh  at  the  joke,  you'll  admit. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  73 

WORBURTON.  Well ;  it's  time  you  all  went  home. 
What  the  dickens  are  you  hanging  on  for  after  the 
others  have  gone,  anyway? 

HENDERSON.  Because  Miss  Annesley  especially 
urged  us  to  remain.  You're  the  one  that  ought  to  go 
home.  George!  When  I  watched  you  playing  the 
flunkey  out  there,  I  was  so  disgusted,  I'd  a  notion 
to  tell  the  family 

WORBURTON.  (Hastily)  None  of  that!  (Bus. 
'with  tray  and  dishes)  I  am  staying  for  a  good  deal 
more  than  a  joke  now,  I  warn  you.  (R.  c.  and  rest- 
ing tray  on  table)  I  can't  tell  you,  but  serious  mis- 
chief is  brewing  here,  and  I'm  bound  to  be  on  hand 
for  her  sake. 

HENDERSON.    Are  you  in  earnest,  Bob? 

WORBURTON.  You  bet  I  am.  Charlie,  (With 
hesitation) — who  is  Count  Karloff?  (  COL. 
RALEIGH'S  voice  off.  WTORBURTON  breaks  off 
abruptly  as  he  perceives  COL.  RALEIGH  who  is  enter- 
ing L.  3  with  a  hunt  or  oiis  air;  gathering  up  tray  and 
dishes  starts  towards  L.  I  E.) 

RALEIGH.  Cut  him  off,  Henderson!  (Coming 
down)  Hold  on,  you  young  rascal!  Don't  let  him 
pass  your  front ! 

C  HENDERSON  gets  between  WORBURTON   and   the 
door.    RALEIGH  seizes  his  arm — All  three  L.  c.) 

WORBURTON.  (Expostulating.  Bus.  tray  and 
dishes)  Let  me  go,  Colonel! 

RALEIGH.  Not  until  you  explain  why  you  are 
sailing  under  false  colors. 

WORBURTON.  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it  later, 
Colonel. 

^  RALEIGH.  You'll  tell  me  all  about  it  now,  sir. 
I'll  not  have  you  playing  pranks  with  my  god- 
daughter, Bob.  And  if  this  is  one  of  your  practical 
jokes 

WORBURTON.  Miss  Annesley  is  the  joker  in  this 
case,  sir. 


74  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

RALEIGH.    She  knows  who  you  are? 

WORBURTON.  No,  sir,  and  she  must  not.  Promise 
me  not  to  interfere,  Colonel. 

RALEIGH.  (Teasing  him)  Hum!  I  shall  have 
to  think  it  over  before  promising,  Betty  is  the 
apple  of  my  eye. 

HENDERSON.  You'll  spoil  the  time  of  her  life  if 
you  break  in,  Colonel  Raleigh,  and  blight  the 
romance  of  two  fond  hearts.  Let  me  call  upon  you 
to-morrow  and  give  you  the  whole  touching  idyll 
before  you  decide. 

WORBURTON.  That's  it.  Charlie  knows  all  about 
it.  You'll  go  in  heart  and  soul  when  you  get  the 
fact.  (Voices  heard  L.  u.)  They're  coming  out. 
(Goes  to  door  L.  2  quickly)  If  you  love  me  go 
home  like  a  dear  old  chap — go  home  and  stay  home. 
(Exits  hastily.  Bus.  tray  and  dishes) 

RALEIGH.  (To  HENDERSON)  What  does  it  all 
mean?  Is  he  seriouslv  in  love  with  Betty? 

HENDERSON.  He  is  absolutely  daft  about  her, 
sir.  Wait  until  you  hear  the  story. 

RALEIGH.  (Giving  him  card)  Yes,  yes,  I  must 
have  the  yarn  for  the  boys  at  the  Post.  Come  to 
lunch  to-morrow  my  boy.  Ha,  ha !  Bob,  seriously 
in  love.  Play  the  part  of  a  butler  to  be  near  my 
little  Betty.  Well,  well,  I  suppose  there's  no  harm 
in  telling  her  a  little  more  about  Bob,  when  he  is 
in  the  room,  eh,  eh?  (Digs  HENDERSON  in  the 
ribs)  Just  to  keep  the  edge  on  the  joke,  eh? 

HENDERSON.  A  capital  idea,  Colonel.  By  the 
bye,  Miss  Annesley  is  under  the  impression  that  Bob 
has  bright  red  hair. 

RALEIGH.  (Crosses  R.)  Ha,  ha!  Red  hair! 
You  are  responsible  for  that,  eh  ? 

HENDERSON.    I  am  afraid  I  am,  sir. 

RALEIGH.  That's  glorious !  Now  you  wait,  and 
I'll  add  a  little  vermilion  to  his  character ! 

(HENDERSON  goes  L.  at  voices.) 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  75 

BETTY.  (Voices  entering  L.  u.  to  R.  above  table) 
\Yhat  is  the  joke,  gentlemen?  (Strikes  a  little 
Chinese  gong  R.  u.  table) 

HENDERSON.  The  Colonel  was  telling  me  an  army 
joke. 

BETTY.  (Turning  electric  switch  L.  of  window) 
May  I  not  hear  it? 

RALEIGH.  (Extreme  R.  laughing)  I'm  afraid 
it's  a  trifle — ahem — dearie. 

BETTY.  (As  WORBURTON  re-enters  L.  2)  You 
are  a  humbug — it  was  about — Oh !  the  chafing-dish, 
if  you  please,  James.  (WORBURTON  repeats  in  half 
voice — Chafing-dish — JAMES.  As  WORBURTON 
exits)  You've  got  some  joke  about  my  butler.  I 
saw  you  exchanging  winks  at  dinner. 

(MRS.  CON  WAY  enters  L.  3,  followed  by  KARLOFF 
and  COLONEL  ANNESLEY.  N.  B.  KARLOFF, 
RALEIGH  and  HENDERSON  wear  the  scarlet  coat 
and  evening  dress  of  the  Hunt  Club.  ANNESLEY 
evening  clothes.  Both  women  should  wear 
white.  KARLOFF  stands  L.  of  BETTY,  ANNESLEY 
above  divan  talking  to  MRS.  CON  WAY.) 

MRS.  CONWAY.  (Observing  BETTY'S  business) 
Are  you  going  to  cook  something,  Betty?  (Moves 
to  divan  near  fire  with  HENDERSON) 

BETTY.  (Studying  recipe  book)  Yes;  I  always 
keep  a  few  victims  after  our  dinner  to  justify  my 
course  at  cooking-school.  To-night,  I  shall  attempt 
"  carbonade  of  tongue." 

HENDERSON.  WTiat  is  the  antidote,  Miss  An- 
nesley  ? 

BETTY.  (Mischievously)  The  trolley-car,  taken 
at  once.  (WORBURTON  re-enters,  places  chafing- 
dish  on  table)  Anyone  who  is  afraid  may  escape 
now. 

KARLOFF.     (L.  c.)     It  will  at  least  be  a  pleasant 


76  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

way  to  die.     I  remain.     (Goes  up  to  book-case, 
selects  book  and  places  it  on  table  up  L.) 

BETTY.    Dry  mustard,  James. 

JAMES.  The  dry  mustard,  James.  (Bows  and 
exits  L.) 

BETTY.     Are  there  any  deserters? 

RALEIGH.  I'm  not  afraid.  I've  eaten  dog  with 
Indians,  rat  with  the  Chinese;  and  a  twenty-five 
cent  table  d'hote  dinner. 

(All  laugh — HENDERSON  sits  on  settee  L.,  KARLOFF 
drops  down  to  seat  before  fire  L.) 

BETTY.  You'll  pass,  sir.  And  now  we'll  have  an 
Indian  fight. 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Oh,  yes,  please,  Colonel.  Come 
over  by  this  glorious  fire,  and  make  our  hair  stand 
up. 

ANNESLEY.  (To  chair  L.  of  table)  Go  ahead, 
Raleigh ! 

(OMNES  murmur,  look  expectantly  at  RALEIGH  who 
crosses  to  large  armchair  R.) 

RALEIGH.  Sorry  I  can't  oblige  you ;  but  by  Jinks ! 
Betty,  that  handsome  butler  of  yours  reminds  me  of 
rather  a  nervy  thing  done  by  one  of  my  pet  Lieu- 
tenants. 

BETTY.  What  is  the  connection  between  my 
butler,  and  your  Lieutenant,  Colonel? 

RALEIGH.  They  are  enough  alike  to  be  brothers  ! 
Except  that  Bob  has  bright  red  hair — (Breaks  off 
abruptly  as  WORBURTON — re-enters — places  mustard 
and  sauce  on  table  to  R.  of  BETTY  and  then  starts  up 
to  R.  3) 

HENDERSON.  (Spoken  during  business)  If  it  is 
about  Bob  Worburton,  it  is  sure  to  be  spicy. 

(Bos  starts  to  go  R.) 
BETTY.    I  want  you  here,  James.     (As  WORBUR- 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  77 

TON  reluctantly  returns  to  table)  Carve  the  entire 
tongue  in  slices — (Consulting  book)  as  thin  as  note- 
paper.  (WORBURTON  "  Thin  as  notepaper,"  BETTY 
leans  on  COLONEL'S  chair,  mischievously  watching 
WORBURTON'S  attempt  to  appear  unconcerned  as  the 
story  progresses,  and  he  makes  havoc  of  the  tongue) 

KARLOFF.  Is  this  Lieutenant,  Miss  Nancy  Wor- 
burton's  brother,  Colonel  Raleigh? 

RALEIGH.  Yes,  Bob  Worburton,  dare-devil  of 
the  regiment,  into  everything,  and  up  to  everything. 

HENDERSON.  Especially  practical  jokes,  eh, 
Colonel  ? 

(WORBURTON  knocks  over  glass  with  crash,  picks  it 
up,  resumes  carving  with  glare  at  HENDERSON.) 

RALEIGH.    Yes,  Bob  goes  to  any  lengths 

( WORBURTON  drops  knife  on  platter — picks  it  up.) 

BETTY.  Less  noise,  if  you  please,  James.  (To 
RALEIGH)  I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  tell  of  a 
practical  joke ;  they  are  so  insufferable. 

(Through  this  BOB  carves  tongue  in  slices  of  varying 
sizes. ) 

RALEIGH.  No ;  my  little  yarn  concerns  saving  the 
lives  of  an  entire  company  lost  on  the  Prairie,  in 
one  of  our  blinding,  driving  snowstorms. v  Nothing 
is  any  good  but  a  compass  in  such  storms,  and  the 
Captain  had  forgotten  his.  So,  there  they  were, 
wandering  about  in  the  drift,  frozen  and  hopeless, 
until  Bob  offered  to  find  the  way. 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  Don't  expect  us  to  believe  that 
he  actually  did  it,  Raleigh.  I  know  what  snow 
means  on  the  Plains. 

RALEIGH.  He  did  it  just  the  same.  Four  hours 
later  every  man  of  them  was  being  thawed  out  in 


78  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

the  barracks  kitchen  and  Bob  was  hero  of  the  hour. 
BETTY.  Pooh!  Why  a  St.  Bernard  dog  could 
have  done  as  much  as  that !  (At  this  BOB  puts  down 
knife  and  fork  and  starts  to  exit  through  window  R., 
is  called  back  by  BETTY)  Is  that  all  he  did? 

(Bos  threatens  RALEIGH  with  carving  knife.) 

RALEIGH.  No;  one  day  there  was  a  call  for 
volunteers  to  go  over  to  the  reservation  to  arrest  an 
Indian  chief  who  had  murdered  a  sheep  herder. 
There  was  a  cheerful  belief  that  the  officer  who 
tackled  the  job  would  join  the  sheep  herder,  never- 
theless Bob  went  alone — (Rises)  brought  his 
prisoner  back  in  the  afternoon  and  handed  him  over 
like  a  sandwich  at  a  picnic. 

HENDERSON.    Bully ! 

RALEIGH.    Is  that  better,  Betty? 

BETTY.  Urn — yes.  But  I  can't  seem  to  enthuse 
over  your  snippy  Lieutenant.  (Bos  upsets  platter, 
COL.  ANNESLEY  and  MRS.  CON  WAY  rise  abruptly) 
Oh!  (WORBURTON.  "Damn")  James! 

WORBURTON.  (Collecting  pieces  of  tongue)  I 
beg  pardon,  Miss ;  merely  a  slip  of  the  tongue. 

BETTY.     (Going  to  table)    Take  it  away! 

WORBURTON.    Miss? 

BETTY.     Remove  the  tongue. 

WORBURTON.  Oh !  (Seises  platter  in  one  hand, 
sticks  tongue  on  fork  with  other,  marches  hastily 
to  L.  2  E.) 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  James  bring  me  the  cigars  from 
the  dining-room. 

WORBURTON.  (Resignedly;  tongue  on  fork  in  one 
hand,  platter  in  other)  The  dining-room  cigars; 
yes,  sir.  (Exits  L.  2  E.) 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  (Taking  chair  up  to  L.  of  table 
up  R.  c. )  You  should  not  be  so  severe  with  the  poor 
fellow,  Betty,  he  is  out  of  his  place  to-night.  (AN- 
NELEY  stands  in  window  R.  3.  MRS.  CONWAY  moves 
towards  c.) 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  79 

HENDERSON.  He  merely  made  a  slip  of  the 
tongue 

RALEIGH.  That's  all.  It  was  my  tongue  he'd  like 
to  have  sliced.  (Winks  to  HENDERSON,  and  sits  by 
him  on  settee  L.) 

BETTY.  (Down  R.  of  table)  I'm  glad  you  think 
it  is  so  funny. 

MRS.  CON  WAY.  (Above  table  R.  c.)  Never  mind, 
darling,  considering  where  you  picked  him  up 

BETTY.    Ssh!    Ssh! 

RALEIGH.  Where  the  deuce  did  you  get  the 
fellow,  Betty  ? 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Won  him  in  a  raffle — But  tell  us 
more  about  your  Lieutenant.  (To  big  chair  L.)  Yes, 
do. 

KARLOFF.  (Sneering,  rising  and  crossing  to  L.  of 
table)  Do,  my  dear  Colonel;  he  must 'be  quite  a 
little  here. 

BETTY.  (Warmly)  Don't  you  think  you  might 
cut  the  little  out,  Count  Karloff  ? 

KARLOFF.    Certainly,  if  he  is  a  friend  of  yours. 

BETTY.  He's  not.  But  he  is  a  soldier,  and  I  love 
soldiers. 

(RALEIGH  rises.) 

HENDERSON.  (Rises)  Somebody  please  wire 
Bob. 

(KARLOFF  turns  to  MRS.  CONWAY  in  large  arm-chair 
and  engages  her  in  conversation.) 

BETTY.     I  didn't  mean  that! 

RALEIGH.  You  would  if  you  knew  him,  honey. 
(Crossing  R.  to  below  table.  Puts  his  arm  about 
her) 

BETTY.  I  would  not!  I  was  thinking  of  you — 
and  Dad — Daddy !  (Extends  a  hand  to  ANNESLEY 
who  comes  down  R.  of  her)  And  General  Grant — • 
and — and 


8o  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

(WORBURTON  re-enters  with  box  of  cigars,  stands 

L.   C.) 

HENDERSON.    And  Tippacanoe  and  Tyler  too. 
BETTY.     (Vexed)    Well;  not  of  your  friend. 
WORBURTON.    Cigars,  sir? 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  (Extreme  R.)  Pass  them  to 
the  gentlemen. 

(WORBURTON  passes  to  gentlemen.  BOB  passes 
cigars  first  to  HENERSON  who  rises  to  get  match 
from  mantel.  WORBURTON  bows,  obeys  with 
air  of  helpless  exasperation.  In  passing  cigars 
to  HENDERSON  WORBURTON  covertly  punches 
him,  then  absentmindedly  holds  out  box  to  MRS. 
CONWAY.  Discovers  mistake.  Goes  up  around 
large  arm-chair,  and  gives  KARLOFF  cigar. 
Then  down  c.  and  slaps  RALEIGH  with  box  who 
looks  about  startled.  WORBURTON  goes  up  c. 
as  RALEIGH  passes  cigars  to  ANNESLEY  in  front 
of  table  R.  c.  RALEIGH  places  cigars  on  table.) 

HENDERSON.  By  the  bye;  Miss  Annesley,  have 
you  received  the  picture  of  Bob  that  Nancy  mailed 
last  night? 

BETTY.    No.    She  said  she  could  not  find  it. 

HENDERSON.  This  is  an  old  one  that  she  stole 
from  her  Aunt.  (With  side  glance  at  WORBURTON) 
Strange  that  you  have  not  received  it. 

BETTY.  (Lights  alcohol  cigar  lamp  at  table  R.  c.) 
I'll  look  into  this  at  once.  Tell  Cora  to  bring  in  the 
mail,  James.  While  you  serve  lunch.  (BETTY  ex- 
tends cigar  lighter,  RALEIGH  and  ANNESLEY  both 
bend  simultaneously  to  light  cigars) 

WORBURTON.  Cora  serves  mail.  I  serve  punch. 
(Sotto  voce.  Exits  L.  2  E.) 

RALEIGH.  "  Punch,"  I  hope  it  is  your  famous 
brew,  Annesley. 

COL.  ANNESLEY.    Yes,  I  made  it  in  memory  of 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  81 

the  good  old  days,  when  we  used  to  drink  it  around 
the  camp-fires. 

(RALEIGH  crosses  up  above  table  R.  c.    CORA  enters 
L.  2.) 

CORA.    You  wish  me,  Miss  ? 

(KARLOFF  goes  L.  of  MRS.  CON  WAY.) 

BETTY.  Yes ;  bring  me  the  mail.  (As  CORA  exits, 
putting  chafing-dish  on  table  up  R.  with  RALEIGH'S 
help)  1  am  so  vexed,  I  am  dying  to  cook  some- 
thing. 

(WORBURTON  re-enters  with  bowl  of  punch,  gets  L. 
of  table,  places  it  before  BETTY.) 

HENDERSON.  (L.  below  divan)  Try  a  roast  of 
some  kind — I  hear  you  are  good  at  that,  Miss  An- 
nesley  ? 

(BETTY  begins  to  serve  punch  at  table  R.  c.) 

BETTY.  (Laughing)  That  is  more  in  your  line, 
isn't  it  ?  Give  this  to  Mrs.  Conway,  James. 

(WORBURTON  serves  MRS.  CONWAY,  then  KARLOFF 
and  HENDERSON,  ANNESLEY  and  RALEIGH  take 
their  glasses  from  BETTY.  WORBURTON  crosses 
to  L.  2  and  has  bus.  with  HENDERSON,  taking 
sly  puffs  on  HENDERSON  cigar.  Drinking  his 
punch f  etc.) 

RALEIGH.  Yes,  we're  all  filled.  (Looking  in 
empty  glass) 

HENDERSON.  Yes,  we're  all  filled.  (Looking  in 
empty  glass) 

RALEIGH.    (Raising  his  glass)    Here's  to  one  of 


82  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

the  most  loyal  Americans,  that  ever  fought  for  the 
flag !  (As  ANNESLEY  hesitates)  No  false  modesty, 
I  said  "  one  of  "  not  the. 

(All  laugh,  drink  to  ANNESLEY.) 

BETTY.  (Raising  her  glass)  Now  then,  here's  to 
the  bravest  officer  that  ever  held  a  totally  empty 
prairie  single  handed  against  nothing  at  all.  To 
Col.  Raleigh ! 

(OMNES  drink  as  CORA  enters  L.  2,  with  mail  on 
tray.) 

CORA.    The 

WORBURTON.  (Checks  her  with  hasty  gesture, 
seizes  tray  from  her  hands,  dexteriously  slips  the 
photograph  over  the  edge  underneath  tray,  holds 
it  there  as  he  presents  the  rest  of  the  mail  to  BETTY. 
HENDERSON  sees  this  business.  KARLOFF  strolls  up 
L.  c.  to  book  to  table)  The  mail,  Miss. 

BETTY.  (Taking  it  disappointedly)  Is  this  all, 
Cora? 

CORA.  Yes,  Miss;  I  gave  James  all.  (Exits. 
MRS.  CONWAY  joins  KARLOFF  up  L.  c.  Is  interested 
in  book) 

HENDERSON.     No  picture? 

BETTY.  (Tearing  note  open)  Only  a  note  from 
Nancy.  Pardon  me.  (Reads  eagerly) 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  (Above  and  R.  of  table  with 
RALEIGH)  James,  those  pistols  from  the  wall. 

(WORBURTON  crosses  up  and  at  back,  has  difficulty 
with  fastening  of  pistols  which  keeps  him  by 
them.) 

BETTY.  Nancy  says  she  mailed  "  Bob's  photo  last 
night.  It  is  very  odd  that  it  is  not  here. 

RALEIGH.     (Crosses  L.  to  fireplace  to  dispose  of 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  83 

ashes)     Nancy  tells  me  that  Bob  returned  on  the 
same  steamer  with  you,  Betty. 

(HENDERSON  crosses  up  to  WORBURTON,  at  extreme 
back.) 

BETTY.  I  believe  so ;  but  as  it  happens,  I  did  not 
see  him. 

RALEIGH.  (L.  c.)  Didn't  see  him !  (Bursts  out 
laughing)  By  George !  Didn't  see  Bob  Worburton ! 
I  hope  no  one  will  ever  tell  him  that ! 

MRS.  CONWAY.  Is  he  such  a  "look  and  die" 
hero  ?  Colonel ! 

RALEIGH.  A  perfect  Adonis!  Horribly  spoiled 
by  silly  women.  His  room  is  hung  with  trophies 
and  locks  of  hair  that  he  calls  his  "  scalps." 

BETTY.     (Instantly  indignant)     His  scalps! 

RALEIGH.  Yes;  or  "a  hair  of  the  dog  that  bit 
him." 

BETTY.    How  manly ! 

MRS.  CONWAY.    And  Betty  did  not  even  see  him ! 

RALEIGH.  I  can't  understand  it.  Bob's  a  rapid 
fire  flirt,  don't  you  know — knocks  'em  off  at  the  rate 
of  a  girl  a  minute. 

BETTY.  And  boasts  of  his  conquests  at  the  mess 
table. 

RALEIGH.  Oh,  no ;  Bob  never  boasts ;  but  some- 
times he  lets  the  truth  leak  out,  if  it  is  funny  enough. 

(WORBURTON,  in  exasperated  attempt  to  get  pistols 
from  wall,  drops  tray  and  photo,  HENDERSON 
instantly  seises  the  photo,  pockets  it  calmly  with 
a  zvink  to  WORBURTON  who  stoops  to  recover 
tray.  HENDERSON  drops  down  R.  of  table.) 

BETTY.  Funny!  (Darts  angry  glance  at  WOR- 
BURTON in  time  to  see  the  business  with  the  photo) 
He  needs  3  lesson! 


84  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX 

(WORBURTON  gives  pistols  R.  to  HENDERSON.) 

MRS.  CONWAY.  He  needs — to  meet  you.  But 
really,  I  must  retire,  my  dear!  Look  at  the  clock. 
Good-night,  Colonel,  a  most  charming,  evening. 
Good-night  all! 

(Business  of  salutations  during  which  HENDERSON 
goes  up  L.  c.  then  down  L.  c.) 

BETTY.  I  am  coming  up  with  you,  dear,  if  the 
gentlemen  will  excuse  me?  (Exits  L.  3  with  MRS. 
CONWAY) 

RALEIGH.  Is  it  too  late  to  look  over  your  collec- 
tion of  arms,  Annesley? 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  Not  at  all.  Count  Karloff,  they 
will  interest  you,  I  think.  (Leading  way  off  R.  2) 
Do  you  care  foi  such  things,  Mr.  Henderson? 

HENDERSON.  (Crossing  down  L.)  Deeply  in- 
terested, I  assure  you.  (ANNESLEY,  KARLOFF  and 
RALEIGH  exit  R.  2,  leaving  HENDERSON  by  fireplace. 
WORBURTON  at  window)  You  may  go,  James 

WORBURTON.  (Crossing  quickly  to  him)  Give 
me  that  confounded  picture ! 

HENDERSON.  (Half  struggling  with  WORBURTON) 
It  is  a  penal  offense  to  tamper  with  the  U.  S.  mail, 
James.  (Pulls  picture  half  out  of  his  pocket)  I'd 
like  to  see  it  myself — (Glances  at  it)  But  no,  it  is 
sealed.  (Drops  it  back  in  pocket)  We  mustn't  go 
up  against  the  law,  my  boy. 

WORBURTON.  Hang  your  chaff!  You  and 
Raleigh  have  had  fun  enough  at  my  expense  for  one 
evening,  now  I'll  have  that  picture 

HENDERSON.  It  won't  tell  her  anything  that  she 
doesn't  know.  (Crosses  R.  c.) 

WORBURTON.  (Following)  What  does  she 
know!  Nothing,  absolutely  nothing.  She  can  only 
guess  until  I  am  ready  to  tell  her.  Hand  it  over, 
Charlie. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  85 

HENDERSON.  My  dear  boy,  she  saw  me  take  it, 
and  she's  going  to  ask  for  it  the  moment  she  gets 
back. 

WORBURTON.    And  you  intend  to  let  her  have  it. 

HENDERSON.  Of  course — now  keep  your  temper 
— Say,  how  about  that  scalp  story?  (Movement) 

WORBURTON.  There  are  no  scalps — There  never 
were  any  scalps!  George!  (Pacing  about)  "A 
hair  of  the  dog  that  bit  me!  And  Raleigh  knows 
that  if  any  dog — I  mean  girl,  dared  to  offer  me  a 
lock  of  her  hair,  I'd— I'd 

HENDERSON.    Was  there  a  snow  storm  ? 

WORBURTON.  Yes ;  but  as  she  said,  a  St.  Bernard 
dog  would  have  done  as  well  as  a  snippy  Lieutenant! 

HENDERSON.  Now  say ;  Bob,  I  must  give  her  this 
picture.  It's  U.  S.  Mail  and  sealed. 

WORBUBTON.  All  right;  give  it  to  her,  but  wait 
till  I  get  out  of  the  room ! 

BETTY.     (Off)     Good-night,  dear! 

HENDERSON.    Ssh !    Ssh ! 

(WORBURTON  rushes  to  table,  makes  business  with 
glasses  and  tray,  as  BETTY  re-enters  L.  3.) 

BETTY.    Where  are  the  others? 

HENDERSON.  Looking  at  Col.  Annesley's  collec- 
tion of  arms.  I  waited  to  give  you  this — (Handing 
her  picture  up  L.  c. )  I  bribed  James  to  steal  it  for 
me  just  to  keep  up  the  excitement. 

BETTY.  (Opening  cover,  eagerly  crosses  down  R. 
of  table)  I  thought  so.  But  no  matter.  I  shall  see 
the  irresistible  Bob  at  last.  (To  WORBURTON  who 
takes  up  tray,  starts  to  door< — is  blocked  by  HENDER- 
SON) You  have  forgotten  half  the  things,  James. 
Please  go  back  and  clear  the  table 

(WORBURTON  returns  to  table,  sulky  and  confused; 
piles  glasses  into  Toddy  bowl,  adds  a  magazine, 
and  a  candlestick  quite  unconscious  of  every- 
thing but  BETTY  and  the  picture.) 


86  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

BETTY.  (With  mischievous  glance  at  WORBUR- 
TON  )  Now  we  shall  see  "  Bob  "  without  a  beard. 
"  Bob."  the  professional  lady  killer,  smirking — (As 
WORBURTON  crashes  the  glass)  Oh,  James,  please! 
That  is  my  best  glass!  (Tossing  paper  to  floor, 
reads  from  back  of  photo)  The  only  picture  I 
could  find  of  Bob  without  a  beard.  (  Turns  it  over, 
exclaims)  Oh !  (Stares  at  it  absolutely  transfixed. 
Turns  to  WORBURTON  who  braces  himself,  then  to 
HENDERSON,  who  is  convulsed  with  silent  laughter) 
It  is  the  picture  of  a  bald-headed  baby! 

HENDERSON.  (Bursts  out  laughing.  WORBURTON 
joins  in,  seizes  tray,  rushes  out  L.  I  still  laughing) 
Yes ;  Bob  without  a  beard. 

BETTY.  (Crosses  L.  excitedly)  You  knew  this 
all  the  while,  Mr.  Henderson!  Kept  me  in  sus- 
pense, tantalized  me,  and  all  the  time,  you  and — and 
that  man  were  laughing  at  me. 

HENDERSON.  James  had  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
Nancy  thought  you  would  be  awfully  amused. 

BETTY.  (Crosses  R.)  I  am.  Tell  Nancy  I  am 
glad  to  have  seen  her  brother  at  his  most  interesting 
age 

HENDERSON.  You'd  not  say  that  if  you  could 
meet  Bob  now. 

BETTY.  (Crosses  L.  u.)  I  doubt  if  I  should  lay 
my  heart  on  his  shrine,  or  add  my  scalp  to  his  wig- 
wam! If  there  is  anything  despicable  it  is  a  regi- 
mental flirt,  bragging  of  his  conquests. 

HENDERSON.  Raleigh  is  mistaken  about  that.  I 
never  heard  Bob  boast.  He  really  is  the  best  of  fel- 
lows, Miss  Annesley.  It  will  break  Nancy's  heart  if 
you  don't  like  him. 

BETTY.  (Coming  down  L.  c.)  And  it  will  break 
my  heart  if  I  do — so  you  had  best  keep  him  in 
Canada — if  he  is  there;  is  he? 

HENDERSON.  (R.  c.)  Yes — er — Canada.  Well; 
it  is  too  late  to  argue,  so  I'll  leave  my  adieux  for  the 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  87 

Colonel,  and  drag  my  mangled  remains  home. 
Good-night ! 

BETTY.  (Shaking  hands)  Good-night!  I  am 
not  angry  at  you,  Mr.  Henderson.  (Turns  back  to 
c.  as  Henderson  exits  R.  2,  eyes  picture)  It  is  Bob 
Worburton.  I  knew  it !  The  whole  thing  is  a  joke 
between  him  and  Henderson  and  the  Colonel. 
(Wrathfully,  L.  of  table)  It's  a  good-looking  baby, 
too!  A  dear  baby;  even  if  he  has  no  hair — Hair! 
(Throws  picture  down  angrily.  Crosses  to  c.  then 
up  to  table  R.  u.)  "A  hair  of  the  dog  that  bit 
him !  "  Oh !  he  has  talked  about  me  to  Henderson, 
and  I  am  supposed  to  be  the  latest  victim  to  his 
devastating  charms.  Oh,  well,  it  is  all  my  own 
fault !  But  he'll  have  no  scalp  to  show,  no  joke ! — 
(Striking  gong  on  table  R.  u.)  to  tell,  this  time. 
(Goes  to  fire,  stands  looking  into  it)  I  don't  see 
what  on  earth  men  were  made  for,  they're  nothing 
but  delusions,  and  snares,  and — and— disappoint- 
ment. 

WORBURTON.  (Enter  L.  2,  smiling,  then  serious) 
You  rang,  Miss? 

BETTY.  (Moves  R.  to  c.,  frigidly)  Yes,  I  have 
a  few  words  to  say  to  yo^u — I — I  simply  cannot 
endure  any  further  impertinence.  For  a  man — a 
servant — to  laugh  as  you  laughed  just  now  at  me  is 
unpardonable. 

WORBURTON.  (L.  c.)  Quite  so,  but  my  sense  of 
humor  is  irrepressible,  Miss,  and  your  expression 
was  truly  very  funny — when  you  saw  the  baldheaded 
baby  I  thought  it  was  the  funniest  thing.  (Break 

off) 

BETTY.  We  will  not  discuss  that.  The  whole 
experiment  has  been  a  mistake — one  long  series  of 
impertinences,  culminating  in  this  insult  to-night. 

WORBURTON.    Insult ! 

BETTY.    Your  presence  in  this  house  is  an  insult. 

WORBURTON.    You  are  responsible  for  that,  Misg 


88  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

Annesley.  I  did  not  ask  the  position;  you  forced 
me  into  it,  if  you  remember. 

BETTY.    I  admit  it.    I  yielded  to — to • 

WORBURTON.    To  a  charitable  impulse. 

BETTY.  No,  sir !  To  a  sense  of  humor  as  sense- 
less as  your  own.  It  struck  me  that  it  would  be  su- 
premely funny  to  keep  you  in  the  ridiculous  position 
that  I  found  you  in,  and  it  has  been;  but  like  all 
jokes,  it  palls.  I  am  tired  of  it;  tired  of  you — I 
want  you  to  go  at  once-— to-night. 

WORBURTON.  To-night — (With  hesitation)  It 
is  very  late 

BETTY.  (Impetuously)  That  makes  no  dif- 
ference ;  you  must  go. 

WORBURTON.  Pardon  me,  but  I  must  ask  to  re- 
main until  morning.  There's  rather  a  serious 
reason 

BETTY.  (Interrupting)  Very  well,  stay. 
(Crosses  R.  c.)  But  understand  distinctly  it  is  not 
necessary  for  us  to  meet  again. 

WORBURTON.  You  need  not  be  afraid,  even  a  fool 
can  weary  of  insults — yes;  insults,  I  speak  as  a 
man ;  not  as  the  groom,  and  to  the  man  you  are  un- 
fair, unjust. 

BETTY.  (Below  table  R.  c.  Shrugging  her 
shoulders)  Think  so? 

WORBURTON.  (Above  table,  L.  of  it)  I  do, 
indeed  But  I'll  not  make  myself  more  ridiculous 
by  explaining  the  motive  that  made  me  willing  to 
play  the  part  of  your  servant.  The  only  apology  I 
can  offer  is  that  I  thought  you  understood  it.  I 
think  so  still.  (Good-bye!  (Exit  quickly  R.  3  E,) 

BETTY.  (Defiantly)  I  don't  care—  (Crosses  to 
fireplace — with  half  sob)  I  do  not !  (Murmur  of 
voices  off,  she  hastily  stoops  to  arrange  firet  and 
dry  her  eyes  as  RALEIGH,  ANNESLEY  and  KARLOFF 
re-enter  R.  c.  ANNESLEY  and  KARLOFF  move  up  R. 
of  table) 

RALEIGH.     (Crosses  to  L.)     Good-night,  Betty, 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  89 

dear.  (Puts  his  arm  around  her  as  she  rises,  L.  c., 
walks  down  with  her)  Had  the  j oiliest  sort  of  an 
evening.  But  I  want  to  retract  something. 

BETTY.    What  is  it,  Colonel? 

RALEIGH.  You  know  all  that  bosh  I  told  you 
about  Worburton  and  his  scalps  ? 

BETTY.    Yes. 

RALEIGH.    Lies,  every  one  of  'em. 

BETTY.  Lies !  And  I !  Oh,  Col.  Raleigh,  you've 
made  horrible  mischief. 

RALEIGH.  I'm  undoing  it.  It  was  only  a  joke. 
I'll  tell  you  my  reasons  later.  Meantime,  good- 
night! (Crosses  R.  Bowing)  Good-night,  Count 
Karloff! 

KARLOFF.    Good-night,  Colonel  Raleigh ! 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  (Joining  RALEIGH,  coming 
down  R.  of  table  R.  c.)  We  must  settle  on  an  even- 
ing for  next  week.  You'll  excuse  me,  Count  Karloff . 
(They  exit  R,  2.  BETTY  is  about  to  exit  L.  3,  at 
steps) 

KARLOFF.  (Detaining  her  up  R.)  Mademoiselle, 
I  asked  your  father  to  allow  us  this  moment  to- 
gether. I  have  a  favor  to  beg. 

BETTY.  (With  forced  gaiety)  Not  to-night, 
Count,  please.  I  am  a  bit  tired  and  more  than  a  bit 
cross. 

KARLOFF.  I  must  have  my  answer  to-night, 
Mademoiselle.  It  is  the  old,  old  question.  I  love 
you — I  want  you  to  be  my  wife 

BETTY.    Oh ! 

KARLOFF.  I  am  on  the  threshold  of  rendering 
a  great  service  to  my  Czar,  in  return  he  is  to  make 
me  his  Ambassador  to  this  country,  and  distinguish 
me  by  his  royal  favor.  All  that  I  am,  or  may  be,  is 
at  your  feet — my  life,  my  happiness  hangs  upon 
your  word. 

BETTY.  (Dropping  down  L.  by  fire)  I — I  ap- 
preciate the  honor  of  your  offer,  Count  Karloff; 
but  a  woman  cannot  reason  herself  into  love — nor 


90  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

out  of  it.  It  comes — we  do  not  understand  it — we 
cannot  resist  it,  or  stifle  it,  we  can  only  follow  our 
hearts. 

KARLOFF.     (Intensely)     There  is  another  man. 

BETTY.    No. 

KARLOFF.  There  is — a  woman  speaks  so  only 
when  she  loves. 

BETTY.  (Haughtily)  You  have  no  right  to  take 
this  tone  with  me,  Count.  There  has  never  been 
any  talk  of  love  between  us. 

KARLOFF.  (Going  toward  her)  There  was  no 
need.  I  have  been  your  slave,  your  shadow — I  have 
given  you  the  most  ardent  and  devoted  love  that 
man  may  feel.  You  have  known  this — you  cannot 
deny  it. 

BETTY.  You  distress  me  terribly.  I — well,  I  did 
understand ;  but  I  did  not  mean  to  let  you  speak. 

KARLOFF.  You  declare  that  you  do  not  love  me, 
that  you  have  been  coquetting!  Answer! 

BETTY.  (Coldly)  I  have  answered.  I  do  not 
love  you. 

KARLOFF.  (After  pause)  I  do  not  accept  this  as 
final.  I  will  not.  No,  no,  Mademoiselle. 

(ANNESLEY  re-enters  R.  2.) 

BETTY.    My  father! 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  I  am  at  your  service  now, 
Karloff.  Give  us  some  music,  Betty,  I  have  a  little 
business  with  the  Count,  (she  goes  up  L.) 

BETTY.  (Hesitating)  It  is  too  late,  Dad — and 
you  look  so  tired. 

KARLOFF.  (Following  her  L.  Suavely)  We 
can  settle  our  affair  in  ten  minutes,  Mademoiselle. 
BETTY  inclines  her  head  and  exits  up  L.  3.  As  BETTY 
exits.  The  men  stand  inactive,  neither  looking  at 
the  other.  KARLOFF  finally  with  a  movement  de- 
precatory and  indicative  of  his  disgust  for  the  matter 
in  hand)  Let  us  terminate  this  as  quickly  as  pos-| 
sible. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  91 

ANNESLEY.  (Going  to  electric  switch  R.  Quaver- 
ing)  Yes,  let  us  have  done  with  it  before  I  lose  my 
courage. 

(Starts  violin.  Lower  out  whites  in  foots  and 
chandelier.  KARLOFF  stands  moodily  watching 
ANNESLEY  who  goes  to  desk,  unlocks  it,  takes 
out  packet  of  plans,  returns  to  table,  lays  them 
down  with  sigh.  KARLOFF  on  opposite  side  of 
table  produces  wallet  with  bank-notes,  tosses 
them  on  table.  KARLOFF'S  hands  tremble. 
Both  men  are  deeply  moved.  There  is  another 
dead  pause — the  two  men  gazing  intently  at  one 
another.) 

(Finally,  very  quietly)     I  believe  that  is  all. 

KARLOFF.  (Huskily)  It  is  not  to  late.  I  have 
touched  them. 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  (With  savage  irony)  It  is  too 
late  to  moralize. 

KARLOFF.  (Hesitating)  Col.  Annesley  I  love 
your  daughter.  Promise  that  she  shall  be  my  wife 
and  I  will  notify  the  Czar  that  I  have  failed. 

COL.  ANNESLEY.    Sacrifice  your  cause  for  her. 

KARLOFF.  It  would  mean  disgrace,  exile ;  but  for 
the  sake  of  your  daughter,  I  would  find  it  no 
sacrifice. 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  (With  sudden  burst  of  anger) 
I  begin  to  understand  you  have  been  working  (At 
work  stop  music)  for  this  from  the  first.  Imposed 
on  me  till  you  think  I  dare  not  refuse  you  anything, 
and  then  demand  my  daughter  as  the  price  of 
silence. 

KARLOFF.  Colonel  Annesley!  (Quietly  and  in- 
tensely) Colonel  Annesley,  you  will  remember  I 
had  not  met  your  daughter  when  I  made  my  proposi- 
tion at  Monte  Carlo.  You  were  a  free  agent  when 
you  sold  me  these  plans  of  America's  fortifications 
for  the  Czar.  I  have  acted  as  any  honorable  gentle- 
man might. 


92  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  (Below  table  R.  c.)  Honorable, 
you?  You  are  a  rascal! 

KARLOFF.  Yes ;  I  am.  There  is  in  every  man  the 
making  and  the  capacity  of  a  great  rascal.  Time 
and  opportunity  alone  are  needed.  Well,  I  am 
going  to  prove  myself  a  great  rascal  with  a  great 
motive.  What  is  Russia  to  me  ?  Nothing.  What  is 
your  dishonor  or  my  own?  Less  than  nothing. 
There  is  only  one  thing  and  that  is  my  love  for  your 
daughter.  I  have  tried  to  win  her  as  an  honorable 
man  tries  to  win  the  woman  he  loves ;  but  now  she 
must  be  won  by  rascality.  (Takes  up  plans  from 
table.  BETTY  appears  in  doorway  L.  3,  and  with- 
draws almost  immediately) 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  (Action)  Give  them  back  to 
me! 

KARLOFF.  Your  pardon,  you  forget  your  note  of 
hand.  It  would  distress  me  greatly  to  place  these 
plans  with  your  Secretary  of  War.  (Putting  plans 
in  his  pocket)  And  take  the  press  into  my  con- 
fidence. 

COL.  ANNESLEY.    Publish  it  ? 

KARLOFF.  Unless  I  hear  from  you  in  the  mean- 
time favorably.  Colonel,  your  very  plain  spoken 
newspapers  will  answer  you,  Monday  morning. 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  (Rising  voice)  You  are  trad- 
ing on  my  infirmity — my  guilt — if  I  were  a  younger 
man — (Breaks  off  abruptly,  perceiving  BETTY — her 
eyes  fixed  on  KARLOFF) 

KARLOFF.  The  remedy  is  in  your  hands — (At- 
tracted by  ANNESLEY'S  expression,  turns  to  see 
BETTY.  Wincing  as  if  struck — makes  quick  step  to- 
ward her  up  c.)  Mademoiselle! 

BETTY.  (Coming  down  c.  Appealing  to  AN- 
NESLEY) What  does  it  mean,  Father — (ANNESLEY 
crosses  L.  and  sinks  in  chair  before  fire)  Tell  me! 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  (His  head  buried  in  his  hands) 
Misery,  ruin,  disgrace ! 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  93 

BETTY.  (Below  table  R.  c.,  back  to  audience) 
I  must  know,  Count  Karloff.  Tell  me ! 

KARLOFF.  (  Up  L.  c.  His  rage  getting  the  better 
of  him)  It  means  that  your  father  gambled  away 
your  fortune  as  well  as  his  own,  at  Monte  Carlo, 
and  to  recoup  himself  has  sold  Russia  the  plans  of 
the  American  fortifications. 

BETTY.    Father,  is  this  true? 

KARLOFF.  (After  a  pause)  It  is  true.  You 
drew  the  plans  yourself  from  his  sketches. 

BETTY.  The  plans !  But  these  were  inventions — 
He  told  me  so — They  were  to  make  him  rich, 
famous;  he  said  so! 

KARLOFF.  He  could  not  tell  yoii  the  truth,  Mad'- 
moiselle!  (Drops  down  R.  of  table  R.  c.) 

BETTY.  (Going  to  ANNESLEY,  impetuously)  Tell 
him  he  lies,  father — tell  him  he  lies ! 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  It  is  as  he  says — I  dared  not 
tell  you  at  Monte  Carlo.  He  made  his  offer  there — 
It  seemed  the  only  way — I  thought  you  would  never 
know.  I  was  half  mad. 

BETTY.  And  sacrificed  your  honor  for  money. 
Why  I  would  have  done  anything,  Dad ;  anything  to 
save  you  all  this  suffering  and  disgrace. 

KARLOFF.  Is  it  not  too  late  for  that,  Mademoi- 
selle. 

BETTY.  Oh,  yes,  I  know,  I  heard.  I  quite  realize 
that  we  are  helpless,  and  that  I  have  no  choice 

COL.  ANNESLEY.    Betty ! 

BETTY.  {Checking  him.  To  KARLOFF)  I  am  a 
proud  woman — yet  will  I  beg  you  not  to — force  me 
into  this  alliance — you  are  not  wholly  without  pity — 
you  will  relent. 

KARLOFF.    No,  no. 

BETTY.  And  I  trusted  you  as  a  gentleman,  as  a 
man  of  honor.  Shame,  shame !  Do  you  think  I  am 
a  faint-hearted  girl?  No,  I  am  a  woman  with  a 
woman's  mind,  and  a  thousand  years  will  not  alter 
my  contempt  for  you.  You  have  weighed  the  con- 


94  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

sequences  ?  (He  bows  his  head  slightly  in  affirma- 
tion) So  be  it  then! 

ANNESLEY.  (Rising)  I'll  not  permit  this 
sacrifice ! 

BETTY.  (Quietly)  I  could  not  bear  to  see  you 
disgraced,  Dad  dear !  And  you  have  no  defense  to 
offer.  There's  nothing  but  pity  and  love  for  you 
in  my  heart. 

KARLOFF.  (Draiving  plans  from  his  pocket)  I 
am  to  destroy  these  proofs,  then,  Mad'moiselle  ? 

BETTY.  Oh,  Count  Karloff,  release  him  from 
this  shameful  condition? 

(WORBURTON  enters  quickly  from  the  open  window 
behind.    KARLOFF  goes  up  to  him  unperceived.) 

KARLOFF.  I  can  accept  no  other  condition, 
Mad'moiselle — Oh  !  (Starts  as  WORBURTON  sud- 
denly grasps  his  right  wrist  from  behind.  Tries  to 
transfer  plans  to  his  other  hand.  WORBURTON  de- 
feats this  move  by  thrusting  his  elbow  up,  simultan- 
eously turning  KARLOFF  to  R.  WORBURTON  forcing 
KARLOFF'S  fingers  open,  seizes  the  packet,  puts  it  on 
salver  and  presents  it  to  BETTY.  Turns,  puts  wallet 
on  salver  and  presents  it  to  KARLOFF,  who  rushes 
at  him  breathlessly.  KARLOFF  holding  R.  arm 
which  pains — after  pause)  Lackey! 

WORBURTON.  Shall  we  consider  the  case  closed, 
Count  Karloff? 

KARLOFF.  Ah,  I  see!  You  are  a  Secret  Service 
man. 

WORBURTON.  (Crosses  L.  to  door)  No,  sir;  I 
am  merely  Miss  Annesley's  servant,  waiting  her 
orders  to  throw — to  show  you  the  door. 

KARLOFF.  (Recovering  his  coolness)  Col.  An- 
nesley,  your  note  for  twenty  thousand  dollars  falls 
due  on  Monday.  I  trust  for  Miss  Annesley's  sake 
that  you  are  prepared  to  meet  it.  (Bows  and  exits 

R.  2j 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  95 

BETTY.  (With  eloquent  look  at  WORBURTON) 
Now,  Dad,  thank  this — this  very  good  friend  for  his 
services. 

COL.  ANNESLEY.  (Crossing  R.,  shaking  hands 
with  WORBURTON  )  You  have  laid  me  under  obliga- 
tions, sir.  Played  the  man,  while  I — (Staggers 
slightly)  It  was  the — the  miserable  money 

WORBURTON.  (R.  of  table)  I  would  not  worry 
about  that,  now,  Colonel  Annesley — after  a  night's 
rest,  you'll  find  a  dozen  ways  of  meeting  it. 

BETTY.  Surely.  (Going  up  L.  to  steps}  We'll 
have  no  more  discussions  to-night.  Come,  dearest — 

WORBURTON.  (As  ANNESLEY  goes  up  steps  L.  u. 
E.  Moving  up  R.)  Good-night,  Colonel,  and 
courage!  The  battle  is  half  won. 

BETTY.  (Turning  as  COL.  exits)  Wait  for  me 
here,  please. 

WORBURTON.  Certainly,  etc.  (BETTY  exits  L.  u. 
E.  Looking  after  them  sympathetically)  The  old 
man  is  badly  shaken.  (Pacing  up  and  down) 
Twenty  thousand  dollars  to  raise  by  Monday,  or 
Karloff  is  going  to  make  them  sell  their  home. 
(Shakes  his  head)  I  don't  see  that.  (Hesitates, 
then  goes  quickly  to  telephone  left  of  window)  I'll 
take  a  hand  in  this.  (Work  up  one  row  whites 
gradually  in  foots  so  they  are  full  at  curtain.  Call- 
ing up)  Hello,  Central,  give  me  Washington  1241 
N.  W.  (Listens)  She  doesn't  know  anything 
about  business.  I'll  bluff  her!  (To  telephone) 
Yes,  I'm  waiting!  (Pause.  To  telephone)  Oh, 
hello,  Charlie!  This  is  Bob!  Bob  Worburton. 
Yes,  I'm  still  washing  dishes  at  Chevy  Chase. 
(Listens,  then  to  telephone)  What?  Who's  talk- 
ing? Oh — (With  sudden  exasperation)  Get  off 
this  wire,  I'm  not  your  birdie!  Central  keep  this 
wire  clear !  Hello !  Charlie !  I  want  you  to  be  at 
your  rooms  to-morrow  morning  at  nine.  There's 
an  important  money  transaction  I  want  you  to  carry 
through  for  me.  (Listens)  Why  not  do  it  my- 


96  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

self.  Because  I  don't  wish  my  name  to  appear  in 
the  matter.  (Listens)  I'll  explain  fully  to-morrow. 
(BETTY  enters  L.  u.  E.,  goes  to  fire,  stands  waiting) 
You'll  be  there?  All  right.  Good-bye.  (Rings  off, 
turns,  perceives  BETTY,  starts  guiltily) 

BETTY.  I've  just  come,  don't  look  so  frightened. 
I  didn't  hear  anything. 

WORBURTON.  I  was  telephon-ing  on  your  busi- 
ness, er — Miss — (Moving  to  her)  Fact  is,  I'm 
awfully  concerned.  The  poor  old  Colonel  mustn't 
be  turned  out  of  his  home,  you  know.  It  would 
kill  him;  you  see  that  of  course.  (Stops  embar- 
rassed) I  was  talking  to  a  fellow  who  has  a  stack 
of  money — a  legacy  absolutely  wasting  in  a  bank. 
He's  pretty  disgusted  about  that  money — it  isn't 
drawing  any  interest,  don't  you  know.  A  fellow 
ought  to  have  interest  on  his  money,  you  see  that. 
So,  as  a  hard-fisted,  skin-flint  business  proposition,  I 
called  him  up  to  ask  how  he'd  like  to  buy  the 
Colonel's  note,  and  extend  it  for  a — a  term  of  years. 

BETTY.    Years ! 

WORBURTON.  The  Colonel  would  pay  interest, 
don't  you  see ;  that's  what  caught  my  friend's  fancy, 
interest;  so  he  accepted  like  a  shot,  so  it's  all  settled. 

BETTY.  Is — Is  the  fellow's  name  Bob  ?  It  sounds 
very  like  Bob  Worburton  to  buy  a  bad  note  for  a 
term  of  years — (Breaks  off  with  laugh  that  is  half 
sob)  He's  so — so  impulsive. 

WORBURTON.    You  mustn't  think 

BETTY.  I  know,  Mr.  Worburton — have  known  in 
a  way  all  along,  but  to-night  made  me  sure  that  you 
were  Nancy's  brother.  And  now  I  am  simply  over- 
whelmed to  remember  how  mean  I  have  been  to 
you.  I  hope  you'll  forgive  me. 

WORBURTON.  If  you'll  take  the  money.  (Im- 
petuously) You've  got  to  take  it.  I'm  going  back 
into  the  service — what's  the  use  of  money  on  the 
Plains — What  earthly  use  is  it  anywhere  except  to 
make  trouble  for  the  fellow  who  hasn't  any.  Your 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  97 

father  needs  it,  and  I'd  pay  twice  as  much  to  save 
him! 

BETTY.  I  understand  the  generous  impulses 
which  prompts  you,  but  don't  you  see  how  im- 
possible it  is  for  us  to  accept  money  from  you? 

WORBURTON.  Won't  you — won't  you  let  it  re- 
main as  I  have  planned?  I  have  never  done  any- 
thing worth  while  before,  and  just  the  anticipation 
of  it  has  made  me  happy.  No  one  need  ever  know. 
Won't  you  let  me  do  it  ? 

BETTY.    We  could  not.    No. 

WORBURTON.  (Pauses,  disappointed  then  turn- 
ing to  go.  Abruptly)  Good-bye! 

BETTY.    Where  are  you  going? 

WORBURTON.    West. 

BETTY.    To  stay? 

WORBURTON.  Yes.  I've  made  a  horrible  mess  of 
everything  Last,  played  the  idiot,  and  been  licked 
all  around,  so  I'm  going  back  to  the  Indians !  I  can 
lick  them. 

BETTY.  Oh,  you  mustn't  go.  There  is  so  much 
to  be  explained.  Why  have  you  done  all  this? 
Why  have  you  submitted  to  all  the  humiliations  I 
have  contrived  and  then  repaid  them  so  generously  ? 

WORBURTON.  {Coming  down  L.  c.)  Haven't 
you  guessed.  Why,  because  I  wanted  to  be  near 
you,  to  be  what  you  have  made  me,  your  servant. 
I  ask  nothing — I  expect  nothing,  but  I  have  done  it 
all  because  I  love  you.  I  know  it  is  hopeless.  What 
woman  could  love  a  man  who  has  made  himself 
ridiculous  in  her  eyes  ? 

BETTY.  Never — ridiculous.  I — and  you  would 
have  gone  away  without  telling  me? 

WORBURTON.    Yes. 

BETTY.  Why?  Is  it  because — (With  spirit) — 
my  father  has  committed  a  crime? 

WORBURTON.    Please  don't  believe  that ! 

BETTY.  What  am  I  to  believe  ?  (Starts.  Music 
•for  curtain)  Do  you  know  what  a  woman  loves  in 


98  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

a  man  ?  Courage,  constancy,  honor.  She  loves  pur- 
suit. She  loves  the  hour  of  surrender.  Every  wo- 
man builds  a  castle  of  romance  and  waits  for  Prince 
Charming  to  enter.  I  have  built  my  castle,  and  I 
wait.  (Pause)  Will  you  not  ask  me  if  I  love  you? 

WORBURTON.  (Starting  forward  then  checking 
himself)  Are  you  meeting  generosity  with  gen- 
erosity? I  don't  want  that.  I  want  your  love. 
Can  you  give  it  to  me — honestly  ?  (BETTY  takes  the 
faded  rose  from  the  bosom  of  her  dress,  and  turn- 
ing her  face  away  extends  it  on  her  upturned  palm 
to  WORBURTON.  He  moves  to  her  impulsively  and 
grasps  her  hand  and  the  rose  in  both  his  hands) 
Can  you  give  what  I  ask  ?  Can  you  ? 

BETTY.    Can  I  give  what  is — already  given? 

(He  takes  her  into  his  arms  as  the  curtain  falls.) 

CURTAIN. 
(On  embrace.) 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

GROUND  PLANS  AND  PLOTS. 
CAST. 

(The  characters  are  named  in  the  order  of  their 
appearance.) 

MARTIN (Clerk  of  the  3rd  Precinct  Court) 

OFFICER  CASSIDY (Of  the  3rd  Precinct  Police 

Station) 

OFFICER  O'BRIEN (Of  the  Mounted  Police) 

MR.  CHARLES  HENDERSON (A  newspaper  man) 

MAGISTRATE  WATTS.  .  (Of  the  3rd  Precinct  Court) 

LIEUT.  ROBERT  WORBUETON (Lately  resigned) 

Miss  BETTY  ANNESLEY 

MRS.  CONWAY (Her  confidante) 

CORA (The  ANNESLEY'S  maid) 

MONSIEUR  PIERRE (The  ANNESLEY'S  chef) 

COL.  GEORGE  ANNESLEY.  .  (A  retired  Army  Officer) 

COUNT  KARLOFF (A  Russian  Diplomat) 

Miss  NANCY  WORBURTON (Boe's  sister) 

WILLIAM (A  stable  boy) 

COL.  FRANK  RALEIGH (Of  the  U.  S.  A.) 

90 


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THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 


SYNOPSIS  OF  SCENES. 

ACT  I.  JUDGE  WATTS'  private  examination  room 
in  the  3rd  Precinct  of  Washington,  D. 
C.  (A  Spring  morning.) 

ACT  II.  The  "  Snuggery  "  of  COL.  ANNESLEY'S 
home  at  Chevy  Chase — a  suburb  of 
Washington.  (A  month  later.  After- 
noon.) 

ACT  III.    The  "  Snuggery."     (The  same  night.) 

PROPERTY  PLOT. 
PLACE  : — Washington,  D.  C.    PERIOD  : — The  present. 


102  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 


ACT  I. 

(Private    room    of   Police    Magistrate    in   Police 
Station,) 

Ground  cloth. 

Roller-shade  at  window  R.  c. 

Large  cabinet  (cupboard)  up  L.  c. 

Flat-top  desk  L.  c. 

Flat-top  desk  R. 

Swivel-chair  back  of  desk  L.  c. 

Swivel-chair  R.  of  desk  R. 

Chair  under  window  R.  c. 

Two  chairs  against  wall  L. 

Water-cooler  and  glass  on  stand  up  R.  corner,  with 

water  to  drink. 
Table  R.  of  cabinet. 
Map  of  Washington,  D.  C.  on  wall  L. 
Waste-jar  under  water-cooler  up  R. 
Office  clock  on  wall  R. 
Waste-basket  under  desk  R. 
Waste-basket  under  desk  L.  c. 

ON  CABINET  L.  C. 

Letter  files. 

ON  DESK  L.  c. — 

Large  inkstand.  Pens.  Pencil.  Blotter.  Note- 
pad. Official  paper  and  envelopes.  Letters,  docu- 
ments, etc.  Law  books.  Desk  telephone,  prac- 
tical. (Electrician.)  Desk  lamp.  Newspaper. 
Washington,  D.  C.,  telephone  directory. 

ON  DESK  R. — 

Large  inkstand.  Pens.  Pencil.  Blotter.  Note- 
pad. Letters,  documents,  etc.  Law  books.  Small 
black  book,  for  bible.  Two  account-books. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  103 

of  receipts.     Desk  lamp.     Newspaper.     Pile  of 
documents  for  MARTIN. 

SIDE. — 

R.  u.  E. — Table,  chair  and  mirror  in  temporary 
dressing  room. 

HAND. — 

HENDERSON. — Written  letter  in  opened  envelope; 

roll  of  paper  money;  visiting  cards  in  case; 

cigars  in  case ;  matches  in  case. 
BETTY. — Hand-bag,  with  silver  pencil ;  visiting  cards 

in  case ;  purse  with  roll  of  paper  money,  etc. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  105 

ACT  II. 

(Library  and  living  room.1} 

Ground  cloth.    Small  medallion.    Rugs. 

Carpet  on  steps  and  platform  L. 

Fur  rug  at  fireplace. 

Grass  mats  back  of  window  R. 

Portieres  at  French  window  R. 

Portieres  at  arch  L. 

Portieres  at  door  down  R. 

Portieres  at  door  down  L. 

Lace  curtains  at  French  window  R. 

Hooded  mantel   (with  over-mantel)   and  fireplace 

L.  2. 

Built  bookcase  up  c.  and  R.  c. 
Cup-shelf  over  bookcase. 
Cup-shelf  over  door  down  R. 
Cup-shelf  over  door  down  L. 
Tall  standing  clock  at  foot  of  steps  L. 
Cabinet-desk   (with  lock  and  key  to  flap)  against 

jog  R. 

Writing  table  c.  R. 

Waste-paper  basket  front  of  writing  table. 
Table  up  c.  at  L.  end  of  bookcase. 
Small  table  up  R.  c.  front  of  bookcase. 
Tabaret  below  door  down  R. 
Settee  below  steps  and  jog  L. 
Low  seat  above  door  R. 
Armchair  R.  of  writing  table. 
Armchair  below  window  R. 
Armchair  L.  c. 

Large  easy-chair  L.  at  fireplace. 
Chair  below  fireplace. 

Pair  of  pistols  on  wall  R.  c.  (to  be  removed.) 
Odd  and  antique  weapons  on  walls. 


io6  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

Small  pieces  of  paper  on  floor  front  of  writing  table. 

Small  ball  of  paper  on  floor  down  L. 

Ten  pictures   (large  and  small)   several  of  which 

are  golf,  fox-hunting  and  shooting  scenes,  etc.,  on 

walls. 
Fox-skin,  with  head,  on  jog  L. 

AT  FIREPLACE  L. 

Andirons,  fender.    Gas-log. 

ON  MANTEL. — 

Framed  mirror.  Two  or  three  framed  photos. 
Antique  lantern.  Ornaments.  Ash  tray.  Matches 
in  stand. 

ON  OVER-MANTEL. 

Several  pieces  of  Art  copper  or  brass. 

ON  HOOD. — 

Two  crossed  U.  S.  Cavalry  swords,  tied  with 
Officer's  sash. 

ON    CUP-SHELVES    OVER   BOOKCASE    AND    OVER   DOORS 
R.  AND  L. 

Pieces  of  odd  pottery,  Art  copper,  Pewter  mugs. 
Iron  and  brass  candle-sticks,  etc.,  etc. 

ON  BOOKCASE. — 

Candelabrum.  Two  art-jars.  Several  photos  of 
U.  S.  Army  Officers.  Loving  cup.  Two  small 
brass  bowls,  etc.  Books  on  shelves  and  one  on 
top. 

ON  SMALL  TABLE  UP  R.  C. 

Vase  with  flowers.  Humidor  with  cigars. 
Magazines.  Books.  Chinese  gong  and  striker. 

ON  TABLE  UP  C.  L. 

Large  red  book  (Veterinary  Surgeon's  manual) 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  10? 

with  plan  on  tracing  cloth  (supposed  to  be  a  plan 
of  Fortress  Monroe.)  Set  of  drawing-instru- 
ments, angles,  etc. 

ON  TABARET  DOWN  R. v 

Palm  in  bowl. 

ON  SETTEE  L.  AND  SEAT  R.— *  * 

Sofa  pillows. 

ON   CABINET  R. 

Vase  with  flowers.  Framed  photos.  Washington, 
D.  C,  telephone  and  directory. 

IN  CABINET, — 

Writing  materials.  Packages  of  documents, 
letters,  etc.,  etc.  Package  of  tracings  (plans  and 
maps.) 

ON  WRITING  TABLE  C.  R. 

Scarf.     Fancy  desk  set.     Note  paper  and  en- 
velopes in  rack.     Ornamental  brass  candle-stick. 
Ash  tray.    Vase  with  flowers. 
SIDE. — 

R.  i  E. — Silver  salver,  i  visiting  card.     (CORA) 
L.  u.  E. — Piano  and  stool.     Chair  for  violinist. 
Two  photos  of  BETTY.     (NANCY)     Rose;  small 
roll  of  paper  money.     (BETTY) 
L.    i    E. — Tray,  with  doily;  pot  of  hot  tea;  3 
teacups,  saucers  and  spoons ;  sugar  and  tongs  in 
bowl;   milk   in   pitcher;   plate    of    small   cakes. 
(CORA)      Teacup,   saucer  and   spoon.      (CORA) 
Small  tray,  with  doily  and  mint  julep.    (CORA) 

HAND. — 

PIERRE. — Large  rose  for  button-hole. 

CORA. — Dust  cloth. 

HENDERSON. — <Note-book  and  pencaL 


io8  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

ACT  III. 
(Same  set  as  ACT  II.) 

Armchair  L.  c.  is  closer  to  table  c.  R. 
Easy-chair  L.  is  L.  c.,  R.  of  settee. 
Waste-basket,  OFF. 

IN  CABINET. — 

Packet  of  plans,  including  the  one  which  was  in 
book  in  ACT  II. 

ON  TABLE  C.  R. (ACT  II.  ARTICLES  OFF.) 

Large  white  scarf  or  cloth.  Six  plates.  Box  of 
paprika.  Salt  and  pepper  shakers.  Small  de- 
canter with  dummy  wine.  Six  napkins.  Six 
knives  and  forks.  Plate  of  small  biscuit.  Tray 
with  four  small  plates  and  small  platter  (for 
BOB.)  Small  recipe  book.  Chafing-dish,  fork, 
and  spoon.  Smoked  tongue  (to  be  carved)  on 
platter  with  carving  knife  and  fork.  Two  tum- 
blers. Candlestick. 

ON  TABLE  UP  R.  c. — (in  addition  to  ACT  II  articles.) 
Cigarettes  and  matches  in  stands.  Ash  tray. 
Alcohol  cigar-lighter,  to  be  lighted  during  Act. 
(The  humidor  is  in  L.  I  E.  for  BOB.) 

SIDE. — 

L.  u.  E. — Piano  and  stool. 

L.  i  E. — Handsome  chafing-dish  and  tray ;  box  of 
dry  mustard;  bottle  of  Worcestershire  sauce; 
humidor  with  cigars ;  bowl  of  punch  on  tray  with 
ladle  and  six  punch  glasses.  (BoB.) 

Written  letter  in  square  envelope;  newspaper, 
wrapped;  old-fashioned  cabinet  photo  of  a  baby, 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  109 

wrapped.    (All  stamped  and  addressed)  on  silver 
salver.    (CORA) 

HAND. — 

HENDERSON. — Cigarette. 

KARLOFF. — Wallet,  with  package  of  paper  money. 

(Bills  of  large  denomination.) 
BETTY. — Rose  used  in  ACT  II. 


LIGHT  PLOT. 

ACT  I. 

\  "" 

Single  gas-bracket,  with  globe,  c.,  R.    and  L.  (not 

practical.) 
Desk-light    (electric  on  desk  R.  and  L.   c.     (not 

practical.) 
Telephone  (practical)  on  desk  L.  c.,  with  connection 

of  stage  (to  work  at  cues  from  stage  manager.) 
Box,  amber,  R.  u.  E. 
Bunch  R.  u.  E.  and  L.  u.  E. 
Strip  over  door  R.  I  E.,  R.  2  E.  and  L.  2  E. 
Foots  and  ceiling  border  full  up. 

ACT  II. 

Bunch,  amber,  back  of  stained  glass  window  L.  c. 

Box,  amber,  R.  3  E. 

Bunch  above  and  below  window  R. 

Strip  over  door  R.  I  E.,  L.  I  E.  and  L.  2  E. 

Gas-log  (not  practical)  in  fireplace  L. 

Lamp,  with  shade,  on  bookcase  up  c.     (Not  lighted 

this  Act.) 
Lamp,  with  shade,  on  cabinet  R.     (Not  lighted  this 

Act.) 
Electrolier,  made  of  an  elk's  antlers,  with  lamps 

at  each  tip,  c.     (Not  lighted  this  Act.) 


1 10  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

Desk-phone  on  cabinet  R.     (Not  practical. J 
Push-button  switch  below  window  R. 
Bell-button  on  jog  below  window  R. 
Foots  and  ceiling  border  full  up. 


ACT  III. 
(Same  as  ACT  II.) 

Box  and  bunches  blue. 
Both  lamps  lighted. 

AT  RISE. — 

Foots  and  ceiling  border  y2  up 

you  hear  the  story.     (HENDERSON} 

READY. 
may  I  not  hear  it.    (BETTY) 

(As  he  pushes  switch.) 

ELECTROLIER  ON. 

Foots  and  ceiling  border  up  to  y$. 

not  mean  to  let  you  speak.    (BETTY) 

READY. 

lose  my  courage.     (CoL.  ANNESLEY} 

(As  he  poshes  switch.) 

ELECTROLIER  OFF. 

Foots  and  ceiling  border  down  to  j£. 

MUSIC  CUES. 
TACET. 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  in 


ACT  II. 

not  at  all  respectful.     (BETTY) 

SEND  PIANIST  AND  VIOLINIST  ON  STAGE  L. 

idea  of  a  handsome  man?    (NANCY) 

READY. 

julep  for  you  sir?     (CORA) 

PIANO  AND  VIOLIN  (medium  lively  selection),  until 

do  you  want  to  bet?  (HENDERSON) 

duel  of  wits  between  Betty  and  me.    (WoR- 

BURTON) 

PIANO  AND  VIOLIN  (andante  waltz)  until. 

to   this   hunt   dinner,    Saturday.      (WoR- 

BURTON) 


ACT  III. 

my  mangled  remains  home.     Good-night 

(HENDERSON) 
SEND  PIANIST  ON  STAGE  L. 

have  answered.    I  do  not  love  you.    (BETTY) 

PIANO  (plaintive  selection)  until. 

you  have  been  working — (CoL.  ANNESLEY) 


DRESS  PLOT. 
PLACE  : — Washington,  D.  C.    PERIOD  : — The  present, 

ACT      I.     Morning.     Spring. 
ACT    II.    Afternoon.    One  month  later. 
ACT  III.     Night.    Two  days  later. 
ROBERT  WORBURTON. — (Age  30) 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

ACT  I.  I — Handsome  livery  of  private  coach- 
man. Frock  coat,  striped  vest,  white 
breeches,  boots,  white  flat  Ascot  scarf, 
round  collar,  etc.,  etc.  Silk  hat,  with 
cockade. 
2 — Light  sack  suit,  hat. 

ACT  II.  Whipcord  livery  of  groom.  Tan  shoes, 
riding  breeches,  cutaway  coat,  vest. 
Collar  and  tie  as  in  ACT  I — I,  button 
puttees  of  same  cloth  as  suit. 

ACT  III.  Blue  or  wine-colored  full  dress  livery 
of  dining-room  footman.  Swallow- 
tail coat  with  silver  buttons,  striped 
club-vest,  trousers,  wing-collar,  white 
tie. 

CHARLES  HENDENSON. — (Age  28) 

ACT      I.     Business  suit,  hat,  etc. 

ACT    II.     Afternoon  suit,  hat,  cane,  etc. 

ACT  III.  Evening  dress,  trousers  and'vest,  scarlet 
swallow-tail  coat  with  brass  buttons. 
(Hunt  Club  evening  dress.) 

COL.  ANNESLEY. — (Age  65) 

ACT    II.     Afternoon  suit. 

ACT  III.     Evening  dress. 

COL.  RALEIGH. — (Age  55) 

ACT  III.     Similar  to  HENDERSON  in  ACT  III 

COUNT  KARLOFF. — (Age  40) 

ACT    II.     Afternoon  suit. 

ACT  III.     Similar  to  HENDERSON  in  ACT  III. 

MAGISTRATE  WATTS. — (Age  60) 

ACT  I.  Black  frock  coat  and  vest,  striped 
trousers,  etc. 

ACT    II.     Light  cutaway  or  frock  suit. 

PIERRE,  a  chef. — (Age  45) 

Light  trousers,  white  duck  coat,  long 
white  apron,  white  cook's  cap,  handker- 
chief around  neck. 

MARTIN. — (Age  30) 

Dark  sack  suit, 


THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX.  113 

WILLIAM. — (Age  20) 

Soft    shirt,    riding    breeches,    leathei 

puttees  (no  coat,  vest  or  hat.) 
O'BRIEN. — (Age  30) 

Uniform  of   Mounted   Police.     Black 

shoes,  black  leather  puttees,  badge,  etc, 

(no  hat.) 
CASSIDY—  (Age  45) 

Uniform  of  Police  Patrolman,  badge, 

etc.  (no  hat.) 

BETTY  ANNESLEY. — (Age  21) 
ACT      I.     Handsome  walking  dress,  hat,  gloves, 

etc. 
ACT    II.     Riding  habit,  (considerably  disarranged 

at  first  entrance.) 

ACT  III.     Handsome  dinner  gown. 
MRS.  CON  WAY. — (Age  28) 
ACT      I.     Handsome   walking  dress,   hat,   gloves, 

etc. 
ACT    II.     Handsome  afternoon  dress,  hat,  gloves, 

etc. 

ACT  III.     Handsome  dinner  gown. 
NANCY  WORBURTON. — (Age  20) 

Handsome  afternoon  dress,  hat,  gloves 

parasol,  etc. 
CORA.— (Age  24) 

ACT    II.     Maid's  light  dress,  apron,  cap,  etc. 
ACT  III.    Maid's  black  dress,  apron,  cap,  etc. 


COSTUME  PLOT. 

PLACE  : — Washington,  D.  C.    PERIOD  : — The  present. 
ROBERT  WORBURTON. — (Age  30) 

i — Coachman's    livery.      Frock    coat, 

striped  vest,  white  breeches,  boots,  silk 

hat  with  cockade. 

2 — Whipcord  livery  of  groom.    Riding 


114  THE  MAN  ON  THE  BOX. 

breeches,  cutaway  coat,  vest.  Button 
puttees  of  same  cloth  as  suit. 
3 — Footman's  livery.  Blue  or  wine- 
colored  full  dress  livery  of  dining- 
room  footman.  Swallow-tail  coat  with 
silver  buttons,  striped  club-vest, 
trousers. 

CHARLES  HENDERSON. — (Age  28) 

Scarlet    full    dress    coat,    with    brass 

buttons.       (Evening    dress    of    Hunt 

Club.) 
COLONEL  RALEIGH. — (Age  55) 

Same  as  HENDERSON. 
COUNT  KARLOFF. — (Age  40) 

Same  as  HENDERSON. 
O'BRIEN. — (Age  30) 

Uniform  of   Mounted  Police.     Blade 

leather  puttees,  badge,  etc. 
CASSIDY.-— (Age  45) 


THE  TOUCH-DOWN. 

A  comedy  in  four  acts,  by  Marion  Short.  8  males,  6  females,  but  any 
number  of  characters  can  be  introduced  in  the  ensembles.  Costumes  mod- 
ern. One  interior  scene  throughout  the  play.  Time,  2^2  hours. 

This  play,  written  for  the  use  of  clever  amateurs,  is  the  story  of  life  in 
Siddell,  a  Pennsylvania  co-educational  college.  It  deals  with  the  vicissitudes  and 
final  triumph  of  the  Siddell  Football  Eleven,  and  the  humorous  and  dramatic 
incidents  connected  therewith. 

"The  Touch-Down"  has  the  true  varsity  atmosphere,  college  songs  are  sung, 
and  the  piece  is  lively  and  entertaining  throughout.  High  schools  will  mak«"  no 
mistake  in  producing  this  play.  We  strongly  recommend  it  as  a  high-class  and 
welUwritten  comedy.  Price,  30  Cents. 


HURRY,  HURRY,  HURRY. 

A  comedy  in  three  acts,  by  LeRoy  Arnold.  5  males,  4  females.  One 
interior  scene.  Costumes  modern.  Plays  2%  hours. 

The  story  is  based  on  the  will  of  an  eccentric  aunt.  It  stipulates  that  h«r 
pretty  niece  must  be  affianced  before  she  is  twenty-one,  and  married  to  her 
5ance  within  a  yean,  if  she  is  to  get  her  spinster  relative's  million.  Father  has 
nice  notions  of  honor  and  fails  to  tell  daughter  about  the  will,  so  that  she  may 
make  her  choice  untrammeled  by  any  other  consideration  than  that  of  true  love. 
The  action  all  takes  place  in  the  evening  the  midnight  of  which  will  see  her 
reach  twenty-one.  Time  is  therefore  short,  and  it  is  hurry,  hurry,  hurry,  if  she 
is  to  become  engaged  and  thus  save  her  father  from  impending  bankruptcy. 

The  situations  are  intrinsically  funny  and  the  dialogue  is  sprightly.  The 
characters  are  natural  and  unaffected  and  the  action  moves  with  a  snap  such  as 
should  be  expected  from  its  title.  Price,  30  Cents. 


THE  VARSITY  COACH. 

A  three-act  play  of  college  life,  by  Marion  Short,  specially  adapted 
to  performance  by  amateurs  or  high  school  students.  5  males,  6  females, 
but  any  number  of  boys  and  girls  may  be  introduced  in  the  action  of  the 
play.  Two  settings  necessary,  a  college  boy's  room  and  the  university 
campus.  Time,  about  2  hours. 

Like  many  another  college  boy,  "Bob"  Selby,  an  all-round  popular  college 
man,  becomes  possessed  of  the  idea  that  athletic  prowess  is  more  to  be  desired 
than  scholarship.  He  is  surprised  in  the  midst  of  a  "spread"  in  his  room  in 
Regatta  week  by  a  visit  from  his  aunt  who  is  putting  him  through  college. 
Aunt  Serena,  "a  lady  of  the  old  school  and  the  dearest  little  woman  in  the 
whole  world,"  has  hastened  to  make  this  visit  to  her  adored  nephew  under  the 
mistaken  impression  that  he  is  about  to  receive  the  Fellowes  prize  for  scholarship. 
Her  grief  and  chagrin  when  she  learns  that  instead  of  the  prize  Hobert  has 
received  "a  pink  card,"  which  is  equivalent  to  suspension  for  poor  scholarship, 
jrives  a  touch  of  pathos  to  an  otherwise  jolly  comedy  of  college  life.  How  the 
repentant  Robert  more  than  redeems  himself,  carries  off  honors  at  the  last,  and 
in  the  end  wins  Ruth,  the  faithful  little  sweetheart  of  the  "Prom"  and  the  class- 
room makes  a  story  of  dramatic  interest  and  brings  out  very  clearly  certain 
phases  of  modern  college  life.  There  ard  several  opportunities  for  the  introduction 
of  college  songs  and  "stunts."  Price,  30  Cents. 

(The  Above  Are  Subject  to  Royalty  When  Produced) 
4 


THE  RETURN  OF  HI  JINKS. 

A  comedy  in  four  acts,  by  Marion  Short,  author  of  "The  Varsity 
Coach,"  "The  Touch-Down,"  etc.  6  males,  8  females.  Costumes  modern. 
One  interior  scene. 

This  comedy  is  founded  upon  and  elaborated  from  a  farce  comedy  in  two  acts 
written  by  J.  H.  Horta,  and  originally  produced  at  Tuft's  College. 

Hiram  Poynter  Jinks,  a  Junior  in  Hoosic  College  (Willie  Collier  type),  and  a 
young  moving  picture  actress  (Mary  Pickford  type),  are  the  leading  characters  in 
this  lively,  modern  farce. 

Thomas  Hodge,  a  Senior,  envious  of  the  popularity  of  Jinks,  wishes  to  think 
up  a  scheme  to  throw  ridicule  upon  him  during  a  visit  of  the  Hoosic  Glee  Club  to 
Jinks's  home  town.  Jinks  has  obligingly  acted  as  a  one-day  substitute  in  a 
moving  picture  play,  in  which  there  is  a  fire  scene,  and  this  gives  Hodge  his  cue. 
He  sends  what  seems  to  be  a  bona  fide  account  of  Jinks's  heroism  at  a  Hoosie 
fire  to  Jinks's  home  paper.  Instead  of  repudiating  his  laurels  as  expected,  Jinks 
decides  to  take  a  flyer  in  fame,  confirms  the  fake  story,  confesses  to  being  a  hero 
and  is  adored  by  all  the  girls,  to  the  chagrin  and  discomfiture  of  Hodge.  Of 
course^  the  truth  conies  out  at  last,  but  Jinks  is  not  hurt  thereby,  and  his  romance 
with  Mimi  Mayflower  comes  to  a  successful  termination. 

This  is  a  great  comedy  for  amateurs.  It  is  full  of  funny  situations  and  is 
sure  to  please.  Price,  30  Cents. 

JUNE. 

A  most  successful  comedy-drama  in  four  acts,  by  Marie  Doran,  author 
of  "The  New  Co-Ed,"  "Tempest  and  Sunshine,"  "Dorothy's  Neighbors," 
etc.  4  males,  8  females.  One  interior  scene.  Costumes  modern.  Plays 
2%  hours. 

This  play  has  a  very  interesting  group  of  young  people.  June  is  an  appealing 
little  figure,  an  orphan  living  with  her  aunt.  There  are  a  number  of  delightful, 
life-like  characters:  the  sorely  tried,  likeable  Mrs.  Hopkins,  the  amusing,  haughty 
Miss  Banks  of  the  glove  department,  the  lively  Tilly  and  Milly,  who  work  in  the 
store,  and  ambitious  Snoozer;  Mrs.  Hopkins's  only  son,  who  aspires  to  be  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States,  but  finds  his  real  sphere  is  running  the  local  trolley 
car.  The  play  is  simplicity  itself  in  the  telling  of  an  every-day  story,  and  the 
scenic  requirements  call  for  only  one  set,  a  room  in  the  boarding  house  of  Mrs. 
Hopkins,  while  an  opportunity  is  afforded  to  introduce  any  number  of  extra 
characters.  Musical  numbers  may  be  introduced,  if  desired.  Price.  30  Cents. 

TEMPEST  AND  SUNSHINE. 

A  comedy  drama  in  four  acts,  by  Marie  Doran.  5  males  and  3  females. 
One  exterior  and  three  interior  scenes.  Plays  about  2  hours. 

Every  school  girl  has  revelled  in  the  sweet  simplicity  and  gentleness  of  the 
characters  interwoven  in  the  charms  that  Mary  J.  Holmes  commands  in  her 
story  of  "Tempest  and  Sunshine."  We  can  strongly  recommend  this  play  as  one 
of  the  best  plays  for  high  school  production  published  in  recent  years. 

Price,    30    Cents. 

(The  Above  Are  Subject  to  Royalty  When  Produced) 
5 


THE  REJUVENATION  OF  AUNT  MARY. 

Hie  famous  comedy  in  three  acts,  by  Anne  Warner.  7  males,  6 
ales.  Three  interior  scenes.  Costumes  modern.  Plays  2%  hours. 

["his  is  a  genuinely  funny  comedy  with  splendid  parts  for  "Aunt  Mary," 
k,"  her  lively  nephew;  "Lucinda,"  a  New  England  ancient  maid  of  all  work; 
k's"  three  chums;  the  Girl  "Jack"  loves;  "Joshua,"  Aunt  Mary's  hired 
,  etc. 

'Aunt  Mary"  was  played  by  May  Robson  in  New  York  and  on  tour  for  over 
years,  and  it  is  sure  to  be  a  big  success  wherever  produced.  We  strongly 
mmend  it.  Price,  60  Cents. 

MRS.  BUMSTEAD-LEIGH. 

A.  pleasing  comedy,  in  three  acts,  by  Harry  James  Smith,  author  of 
Tailor-Made  Man."  6  males,  6  females.  One  interior  scene.  Cos- 
ies modern.  Plays  2%  hours. 

lir.  Smith  chose  for5  his  initial  comedy  the  complications  arising  from  the 
:avors  of  a  social  climber  to  land  herself  in  the  altitude  peopled  by  hyphenated 
es — a  theme  permitting  innumerable  complications,  according  to  the  spirit  of 
writer. 

rhis  most  successful  comedy  was  toured  for  several  seasons  by  Mrs.  Fiske 
enormous  success.  Price,  60  Cents. 

MRS.  TEMPLE'S  TELEGRAM. 

A  most  successful  farce  in  three  acts,  by  Frank  Wyatt  and  William 
rris.  5  males,  4  females.  One  interior  scene  stands  throughout  the 
ee  acts.  Costumes  modern.  Plays  2l/t  hours. 

'Mrs.  Temple's  Telegram"  is  a  sprightly  farce  in  which  there  is  an  abund- 
e  of  fun  without  any  taint  of  impropriety  or  any  element  of  offence.  As 
ced  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  "Oh,  what  a  tangled  web  we  weave  when  first  we 
:tice  to  deceive!" 

There  is  not  a  dull  moment  in  the  entire  farce,  and  from  the  time  the  curtain 
9  until  it  makes  the  final  drop  the  fun  is  fast  and  furious.  A  very  exceptional 
0.  Price,  60  Cents. 

THE  NEW  CO-ED. 

A  comedy  in  four  acts,  by  Marie  Doran,  author  of  "Tempest  and 
nshine,"  etc.  Characters,  4  males,  7  females,  though  any  number  of 
and  girls  can  be  introduced  in  the  action  of  the  play.  One  interior 
I  one  exterior  scene,  but  can  be  easily  played  in  one  interior  scene, 
stumes  modern.  Time,  about  2  hours. 

The  theme  of  this  play  is  the  coming  of  a  new  student  to  the  college,  her 
eption  by  the  scholars,  her  trials  and  final  triumph. 

There   are   three   especially   good   girls'   parts,    Letty,   Madge   and   Estelle,   but 
others  have  plenty  to  do.    "Punch"  Doolittle  and  George  Washington  Watts, 
uentleman    of   color,    are    two    particularly    good    comedy    characters.      We    can 
jongly    recommend  "The  New   Co-Ed"   to  high   schools   and  amateurs. 

Price,  30  Centi 

(The  Above  Are  Subject  to  Royalty  When  Produced) 


JUST  PCBIJSHiau. 

CHRISTOPHER  JUNIOR 

;  A  Comedy  in  4  Acts.  By  Madeleine  Lucette  Ryley.  Modem  cot 
Rime.  Time,  2£  hours.  Three  interior  scenes;  8  males,  4  females 
Christopher  Jedbury,  Jr.,  having  accidentally  placed  himself  in  ai 
infortunate  position  with  a  lady  in  the  West  Indies,  is  forced  U 
narry  her  without  seeing  her.  He  returns  to  England.  His  fathej 
tods  out  about  the  marriage,  quarrels  with  him,  and  turns  him  out 
Jedbury,  Jr.,  goes  to  India  as  a  clerk  in  his  father's  office,  thai! 
Discovers  defalcations  by  the  manager,  and  falls  in  love  with  Dow 
EEddvmy.  He  is  reconciled  to  his  father,  and  Dora  turns  out  to  & 
'is  v.ifo-  Highly  recommended  for  amateurs* 

h  Price,  60  Cents. 

MICE  AND  MEN 

A  Romantic  Comedy.  Four  Acts.  By  Madeleine  Lucette  Ryiej 
i3ostume  about  1786.  Time,  2  hours,  30  minutes.  Three  interioi, 
One  exterior  scene;  7  males,  5  females.  Mark  Embury,  a  man  of  ovef 
£orty,  is  of  opinion  that  the  perfect  wife  must  be  educated  from  a 
itate  of  ignorance  and  simplicity  to  the  ideal  of  the  man  she  is  about 
lo  marry.  He  accordingly  proceeds  to  impart  his  views  to  a  girl 
fresh  from  the  Foundling.  His  young  nephew  comes  on  the  scene^ 
luid  Embury  realizes  that  nature  intended  the  young  to  mate  with 
the  young.  This  beautiful  costume  comedy  can  be  played  by  al| 
females,  and  is  highly  recommended  for  use  by  girls'  schools  an<J 
fjolleges.  This  play  was  originally  produced  by  Mr.  Charles  Frobr 
in&n  with  Miss  Annie  Russell  in  the  leading  role. 

Price,  60  Cents. 

»      ' - ....-•>  '"  '  .!•..,  H  + 

SNUG  LITTLE  KINGDOM 

/  A  Comedy  in  3  Acts.  By  Mark  Ambient.  Modern  costume 
Time,  2J  hours.  One  interior  scene  throughout;  3  males,  4  females,' 
Bernard  Gray,  a  composer  of  music,  lives  in  a  garret  in  Soho.  Undef 
his  charge  is  a  young  girl  hi  the  ballet,  whose  mother  had  died  whet 
she  was  younfe.  Hubert  Gray,  the  brother  of  Bernard,  rescue*  * 
wealthy  old  gentleman  from  an  accident,  the  latter  eventually  tuar 
Wur  out  to  be  the  «irl's  father.. 


JUST  PUBLISHED 

Nothing  But  the  Truth 

A  Farcical  Comedy  in  Three  Acts 
By 

James  Montgomery 
Cast  of  Characters 

*$ob  Bennett 

B.  M.  Ralston 

Clarence  Van  Dusen 

Bishop  Doran 

Dick  Donnelly 

Gwen 

Mrs.  Ralston 

Ethel 

Mable 

Sable 

Martha 

SCENES 

ACT  A.    A  Broker's  Office 

ACT  2.     Parlor  of  a  Country  Home 

ACT  3.  

TIME:    The  Present 

"Nothing-  But  the  Truth"  is  built  upon  the  simple 
of  its  hero  speaking  nothing  but  the  absolute  truth  Jor  a 
stated  period.  He  bets  a  friend  ten  thousand  dollar* 
that  he  can  do  it,  and  boldly  tackles  truth  to  win  the, 
money.  For  a  very  short  time  the  task  is  placidly  easy, 
but  Truth  routs  out  old  man  Trouble  and  then  things  be- 
gin to  happen.  Trouble  doesn't  seem  very  large  and 
aggressive  when  he  first  pokes  his  nose  into  the  noble 
resolve  of  our  hero,  but  he  grows  rapidly  and  soon  we 
Bee  our  dealer  in  truth  disrupting  the  domestic  relations 
of  his  partner.  In  fact,  Trouble  works  overtime,  and 
reputations  that  have  been  unblemished  are  smirched. 
Situations  that  are  absurd  and  complications  almost 
knotted,  pile  up,  all  credited  to  Truth,  and  the  result  of 
the  wager  to  foster  and  cherish  that  great  virtue  from 
the  lips  of  the  man  who  has  espoused  the  cause  of  truth 
to  win  a  wager. 

It  is  a  novel  idea  and  so  well  has  it  been  worked  out 
that  an  audience  is  kept  in  throes  of  laughter  at  the 
seemingly  impossible  task  to  untangle  snarls  into  which 
our  hero  has  involved  all  those  he  comes  into  contact 
with.  It  is  a  clean  bright  farce  of  well  drawn  character* 
and  was  built  for  laughing  purposes  only. 

William  Collier  played  "Nothing  But  the  Truth"  for  a 
year  at  the  Longacre  Theatre,  New  Tork,  and  it  has  been 
on  tour  for  over  two  seasons. 

After  three  years  continuous  success  on  the  profess- 
ional stage  we  are  now  offering  "Nothing  But  the  Truth** 
for  amateur  production.  It  is  one  of  the  funniest  and 
brightest  farces  ever  written,  and  it  is  admirably  suited 
to  amateur  production. 

PRICE  60  CENTS 


DOROTHY'S  NEIGHBORS. 

A  brand  new  comedy  in  four  acts,  by  Marie  Doran,  author  of  "The 
New  Co-Ed,"  ''Tempest  and  Sunshine,"  and  many  other  successful  plays. 
4  males,  7  females.  The  scenes  are  extremely  easy  to  arrange ;  two  plain 
interiors  and  one  exterior,  a  garden,  or,  if  necessary,  the  two  interiors 
will  answer.  Costumes  modern.  Plays  2,l/2  hours. 

The  story  is  about  vocational  trainimg,  a  subject  now  widely  discussed:  also 
the  distribution  of  large  wealth. 

Back  of  the^  comedy  situation  and  snappy  dialogue  there  is  good  logic  and 
i  sound  moral  in  this  pretty  play,  which  is  worthy  the  attention  of  the  experi- 
enced amateur.  It  is  a  clean,  w.holesome  play,  particularly  suited  to  high  school 
production,  Price,  80  Cents 

MISS  SOMEBODY  ELSE. 

A  modern  play  in  four  acts  by  Marion  Short,  author  of  "The  Touch- 
down," etc.  6  males,  10  females.  Two  interior  scenes.  Costumes  mod- 
ern. Plays  2%  hours. 

This    delightful    comedy    has    gripping   dramatic   moments,    unusual    character 
types,  a  striking  and  original  plot  and  is  essentially  modern  in  theme  and  treat- 
inent.     The   story   concerns   the  adventures   of   Constance   Darcy,   a  multi-million- 
aire's young  daughter.     Constance  embarks  on  a   trip   to  find  a  young  man  who 
;faad   been    m   her    father's    employ    and   had    stolen    a   large    sum    of   money.     She 
succeeds,   when   suddenly   all  traces   of  the   young  man   are   lost.    At   this 
ifeoint  she  meets  some  old  friends  who  are  living  in  almost  want  and,  in  order  to 
-assist  them  through  motives  benevolent,  she  determines   to   sink  her  own  aristo- 
#ntic  personality  in   that  of  a  refined  but  humble  little  Irish  waitress  with   the 
lamily  that  are  in  want.    She  not  only  carries  her  scheme  to  success  in  assisting 
:he^  family,  but   finds   romance   and   much   tense  and  lively   adventure  during   the 
•nod  of  her  incognito,   aside  from  capturing  the  young  man  who  had  defrauded 
fVaM  story  is  full  of  bright  comedy  lines  and  dramatic   situations  and 

rhly  recommended   for  amateur  production.     This   is   one   of   the  best   come- 
ive  ever  offered  with  a  large  number  of  female  characters.    The  dialogue 

This  il  a  Play  "  !?"  ?  a^T  fr°m  Start  to  finlsh;  not  a  dul1  moment"  in 
Lv  «511  r£,g  fi  comedy  for  high  schools  and  colleges,  and  the  wholesom* 
tory  will  please  the  parents  and  teachers.  We  strongly  recommend  it. 

Price,  30  Cent* 

PURPLE  AND  FINE  LINEN. 

An  exceptionally  pretty  comedy  of  Puritan  New  England,  in  three 
:ts,  by  Amita  B.  Fairgrieve  and  Helena  Miller.  9  male,  5  female  char- 


cters. 


This  is  the  Lend  A  Hand  Smith  College  prize  play.    It  is  an  admirable  play 

irs,  is  rich  in  character  portrayal  of  varied  types  and  is  not  too  difficult 

iilQ  thoroughly  pleasing.  pricef  30 

(The  Above  Are  Subject  to  Royalty  When  Produced) 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 

New  and  Explicit  Descriptive  Catalogue  Mailed  Free  on  Request 


FRENCH'S 

Standard  Library  Edition 


Clyde  Fitch 

William  Gillette 

Augustus  Thomas 

George  Broadhurst 

Edward  E.  Kidder 

Percy  MacKaye 

Sir  Arthur  Conan  Doyle 

Louis  N.  Parker 

R.  C.  Carton 

Alfred  Sutro 

Richard  Harding  Davis 

Sir  Arthur  W.  Pinero 

Anthony  Hope 

Oscar  Wilde 

Haddon  Chambers 

Jerome  K.  Jerome 

Cosmo  Gordon  Lennox 

H.  V.  Esmond 

Mark  Swan 

Grace  L.  Furniss 

Marguerite  Merrington 

Hermann  Sudermann 

Rida  Johnson  Young 

Arthur  Law 

Rachel  Crothers 

Martha  Morton 

H.  A.  Du  Souchet 

W.  W.  Jacobs 

Madeleine   Lucette   Ryley 


Includes  Plays  by 

Booth  Tarkington 
J.  Hartley  Manners 
James  Forbes 
James  Montgomery 
Wm.  C.  de  Mille 
Roi  Cooper  Megrue 
Edward  E.  Rose 
Israel  Zangwill 
Henry  Bernstein 
Harold  Brighouse 
Channing  Pollock 
Harry  Durant 
Winchell  Smith 
Margaret  Mayo 
Edward  Peple 
A.  E.  W.  Mason 
Charles  Klein 
Henry  Arthur  Jonea 
A.  E.  Thomas 
Fred.  Ballard 
Cyril  Harcourt 
Carlisle  Moore 
Ernest  Denny 
Laurence  Housman 
Harry  James  Smith 
Edgar  Selwyn 
Augustin  McHugh 
Robert  Housum 
Charles  Kenyon 
C.  M.  S.  McLellan 


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